Against the World
by SpazKit
Summary: ObiWan experiences feelings of intense hurt and jealousy when his master begins spending more time with Tahl and her new padawan, Bruck's sister... It will change him. And envoke the assistance of others.
1. Default Chapter

A little angsty something to past the time during one's insomnia. Obi Bashing and   
such. A little different from the JA series.  
  
  
  
  
Against the World  
  
  
  
  
Force.  
  
Help me.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, slumping against his closet door. His room. How long   
had be been in this damnable room? Such words are unbefitting of a jedi, his   
master would say. Odd, only his master wasn't here.   
  
I should be glad for my shields, the young padawan thought. His shields had   
recently become his pride. They were impeccable, unbreakable and his only   
defense upon the abject temple grounds that was his home. He used them all the   
time, just because… he felt like he had to. After all, why would he want to   
interrupt his master-  
  
No. That was unfair. He shouldn't question his master's judgment. Even though   
he disagreed wholeheartedly. And the whole scenario was ripping his very soul   
apart. He swore, he teetered ever closer to the dark side. He had to be,   
considering the last hour had been spent with thoughts of jealousy and anger in   
his mind. Shielded, of course. But there.   
  
Jealousy at Tahl and her new apprentice, Kinah. Jealousy that his master was   
over there, with them, helping her with her saber techniques while he was   
grounded to his room for something he didn't do.  
  
Force.  
  
It had been horrible. He'd been at the cafeteria down on level three when he'd   
been walking to the trash receptacles. Kinah, with her flowing blond hair and   
sparkling blue eyes, had been talking with her friends, and was also heading to   
the trash. Bruck had taken the opportunity to smash into Obi-Wan through the   
crowd, and his tray had been past Kinah. Then his tray had been force-flung on   
elder padawan Chihul-Kan. And off course, she'd blamed the whole mess on   
Obi-Wan with a fiery smirk.   
  
His master had hung on her every word, and even Tahl glared and Obi-Wan with   
disapproval. Thus, he was sentenced to meditation in his room for four hours   
while his master worked with Kinah. His meditations were futile. The whole mess   
was futile.  
  
Ever since Tahl had returned from Meilda/Daan, apparently she had been very   
close to Qui-Gon. And when Obi-Wan was again accepted as his padawan, there   
was the constant wall that was the kind and compassionate creature of Tahl. He   
spent all his free time with her and then some. Obi-Wan grimaced at his   
thoughts, but it was the truth.   
  
And to make his life worse, Tahl chose the young, spirited and coddled girl   
named Kinah, Bruck's sister, as her padawan learner. Needless to say, Obi-Wan   
Kenobi was feeling a might bit hurt and depressed at the moment. Alone. While   
his master was with-  
  
Just /stop/ it, Kenobi, he thought to himself with a groan. Glancing at the chrono   
on his desk, he found it had been four hours. He was free. Itching to release this   
anger, he stood and made his way to the training floors.  
  
The hallways were almost deserted. Glancing into the gym, he found it empty.   
  
Qui-Gon must be with Tahl and Kinah for dinner, Obi-Wan thought. Shaking the   
pang of jealousy away, he dropped his robes to the floor and withdrew his   
lightsaber.   
  
Since the whole ordeal began, it was times like this that he practiced. For hours   
on end. It was the only way he could get rid of the nauseating knot in his   
stomach, for the thing just would not go into the force when he meditated.   
Tonight would be no different.  
  
Breathing calmly, he fell into a defensive posture. What level Kata tonight? He   
wondered. Already, he was far, far ahead of every other padawan in his age   
group, seeing that he practiced so much. Swinging upon the training bar, he   
flipped, and flipped again, his movements graceful in the darkened room.   
Fifteen… level sixteen… try for a seventeen tonight, Kenobi? Why not. He had   
nothing better to do.  
  
  
*********************************  
  
  
Sweaty and sore, Obi-Wan returned roughly around midnight. It was pointless to   
try and sleep, his insomnia of late would surely prevent it. As expected, his   
master was in bed already, his loud rattling snore filtering into the bathroom. Obi-  
Wan showered, and then dropped onto the couch to flip through the late-night   
Holo-Vids.  
  
  
*********************************  
  
"Obi-Wan."  
  
Blinking, Obi-Wan woke with a start and a snort, his nose clogged from sleeping   
on the couch. Glancing up, he stared blearily at the stern look on his master's   
face.   
  
"M'ster?" He asked.  
  
"Where were you last night, Obi-Wan?"  
  
Surprised, Obi-Wan sat up. "Training, Master. Why?"  
  
"Is that the truth, padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, his beard twitching slightly with his   
lips.  
  
"Uh… yes master," Obi-Wan said, stretching.   
  
"Then I suppose you know nothing of the "accident" last night around midnight."  
  
"What accident?" Obi-Wan asked, concerned. He'd heard nothing of it.  
  
"Padawan. I wish you would be honest with me, for once," Qui-Gon frowned,   
crossing his arms. "I've had two people proclaim it was you who were planning to   
do it. Why are you acting this way?"  
  
"Master," Obi-Wan frowned, "I have not a clue what you are talking about.   
Honestly."  
  
"Fine," Qui-Gon said, a trace of anger slipping into his even tone. "Then who was   
it who broke Kinah's vase she made last week? Master Yoda? I'm very   
disappointed in you, padawan," the master said. Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose.   
  
"But master!"  
  
"No buts. If you 'trained' all last night, then let's see what you've learned. To the   
gym. You have ten minutes."  
  
Obi-Wan choked as his master left the room. Bruck. It had to be Bruck and his   
gang of initiates. Then again, he was alone last night. No one knew where he   
was. Force, he hated this! With Siri and Bant gone on Corellia, and Garen with   
his new master… he felt so alone here. Against the world…  
  
Another wave of anger and hurt rippled through his frame. Fine, master, Obi-Wan   
thought with tears in his eyes. Let's spar.  
  
The gym was surprisingly empty when Obi-Wan entered, his head held high.   
  
Qui-Gon glanced forward, watching the boy enter. No. Please no. The things   
Obi-Wan had been doing lately were so… reminiscent of his last padawan… No.   
He would not allow the boy to follow that path. He would work harder, be a   
harder master. Something to stop his padawan from taking that path… He   
swallowed thickly as he watched Obi-Wan raise his head high. The boy had   
nothing to be proud of. His arrogance was another symptom of Xanatos, what   
he'd been before he'd fallen.   
  
Not his Obi-Wan. He hadn't believed it when the eleven year old initiate had told   
him he's seen Obi-Wan by the art display. But when two more stepped forward, it   
was too much to be a coincidence.   
  
The fact that Obi-Wan was constantly shielding wasn't helping matters. Then   
again, he hadn't asked entrance to the boy's mind, since he was a little caught up   
with Kinah. The girl was behind in her saber' practice, since her master was   
unable to see and properly teach her. Thus, he'd been working with the girl to   
help her get caught up. And obviously not spent enough time watching his   
padawan.  
  
Very well. He would work the boy hard today. Then off to mediations.  
  
Obi-Wan fumed inside. As long and he could do this, and not break down and   
cry…  
  
He dropped his robe and drew his lightsaber, breathing in and out. Slowly, he   
told himself. Think of the work you've done in these last few months. Show   
your… master what you've accomplished. His eyebrows relaxed and his eyes   
closed. He was… ready.  
  
Qui-Gon brought a powerful blow down upon Obi-Wan defensive stance, almost   
startling the boy. At first, Obi-Wan moved in circles, defensively. Force! His   
master had never used such power in his attacks! Already, he felt his muscles   
burn.  
  
No. He would do this. He wouldn't back down. He had nothing to back down for.   
He respected… and loved his master…  
  
Obi-Wan fought back a tear at this thought, all the while dodging a blow.   
  
But his master didn't show any affection him back. Not a word of praise. Not an   
extra minute outside studies. Not a touch, not a hug. That part of Qui-Gon Jinn   
was saved for his Tahl, and now Kinah. He knew his master cared for him, but…  
  
He respected and loved his master. But Master Jinn was wrong. And Master Jinn   
refused to allow the possibility that he, a jedi master, was wrong. So Obi-Wan   
would fight back…  
  
Growling like feral animal, Obi-Wan twisted hard, bringing his saber to Qui-Gon's   
flank. The master dodged, but the move caught him off guard. Swing after swing,   
the padawan drove the master back, an energy fueling his moves and speed.   
Using advanced Kata moves meant for a Jedi Knight, the boy spun and flipped,   
dodging and attacking with brutal force. Without touching the dormant bond, Obi-  
Wan could sense his master's shock and surprise through the force. And   
suddenly, he saw it…  
  
Even before his happened, he saw the opening through the defense, he saw how   
he could win, the blow that would claim his victory… As the blades met in mid air,   
Qui-Gon was met face-to-face with the gleaming and angry eyes of his   
apprentice, sweat tricking down the boy's brow. Obi-Wan moved to the next   
blow, the following being the finishing hit-  
  
But his master might be hurt.  
  
He faltered.   
  
In that moment, that moment of indecision, the elder Jedi's own lightsaber easily   
batted the boy's aside, bouncing off the blade and into Obi-Wan's side.   
  
The boy paled, and froze. The master did the same. But before Qui-Gon could   
even move, Obi-Wan stumbled back. Despite the whole Kinah incident, he still   
believed his master cared for him. His master… had just bladed him in his side.   
His…master…  
  
Despite the pain, Obi-Wan ran. Drawing on the force, he just… ran.  
  
Qui-Gon stared after him, shock across his face. The sight of blood on the floor   
spurred him to action.  
  
"Padawan!" He cried out, his lightsaber dropping to the ground with a clatter. His   
worry raced through the temple, and into the other master's minds. His strangled   
cry echoed in Master Tahl's mind, and she knew immediately that something was   
wrong. Anyone force sensitive knew something was wrong from the choked cry   
in Qui-Gon's mind. Everyone but his padawan, who was running, clutching his   
side, but still running. Trying to get away from just… everything. Running into the   
gardens, into the snow…  
  
  
  
TBC 


	2. chap 2

Thanks for the reviews! ^_^  
  
  
  
  
Chap 2  
  
  
There was a place Obi-Wan had found once, a tiny nook inside of the far   
garden's stone walls. Granted, it was easier to find when you're only three feet   
tall and the world is not covered in snow, but after a brief period of stumbling   
through the gardens, he'd found it. It was low to the ground, lower than he'd   
remembered. Stifling another gasp of pain, Obi-Wan struggled to fit himself   
inside the crevasse. At last!  
  
Tucking himself into a small ball, his free hand found his wound. He sniffled, the   
tears burning his cold cheeks. His fingers touched the cauterized wound and the   
strange burnt tendrils of bleeding skin around it. The pain was fading now,   
perhaps with the cold. In his little sanctuary, Obi-Wan Kenobi cried, alone.   
  
Inside the temple, word of the accident spread like wildfire. In fact, it was the first   
thing Bant heard when she stepped off the landing pad of the temple. She raced   
to Qui-Gon's quarters, and found the man in there with Master Mace Windu and   
Master Yoda. She swallowed, and entered slowly, listening.  
  
"I don't know where he is, masters. He has been shielding himself from me for   
several weeks now, and I cannot pick up on his force signature-" Qui-Gon was   
saying. Bant's brow furrowed. Why was Obi-Wan shielding? Normally the   
padawan was very open with his master.   
  
"Odd behievor, your padawan has been showing. Spoke to him about last night,   
did you?" Yoda asked.  
  
"I… I just told him I was disappointed in him, and wanted part of his punishment   
to be a tough spar."  
  
"Asked for his side of the story, did you?"  
  
"He denied involvement. I wanted to work him for his behavior first."  
  
"And did you sense he was lying?"  
  
"No, master, as I said, he was shielding-"  
  
"Hmm…" Yoda murmured. "What do you think, padawan Bant?"  
  
Bant jumped, startled by Yoda's voice addressing her. Timidly, she stepped out   
from the shadows. Three sets of eyes rested on her shimmering skin. She   
swallowed.   
  
"I… heard about what you said Obi-Wan did. I just… can't see him breaking   
something like that for petty fun. Masters, it's just not Obi-Wan! And why are you   
discussing it now when he's out there, hurt? Master Jinn!" She said with a   
wavering voice and tears in her eyes. "Why aren't you helping him? Why don't   
you /believe/ him? He trusts you!"  
  
Qui-Gon's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Mace answered instead-  
  
"That's true. We need to find him. Do you know where he might be, Bant?"  
  
She furrowed her brow again, thinking. "I'm not sure, but I can start looking!"  
  
Thus, a horde of jedi and padawan learners flocked through the temple grounds,   
searching for a boy who didn't want to be found.   
  
And that boy was teetering in and out of consciousness, his leg resting outside   
the cubbyhole, but rapidly being covered but by the falling snow.   
  
  
*************************  
  
  
Kinah stood impatiently, twitching and fiddling with her long blond hair.   
  
"About time, Bruck. Took you long enough!" she bickered, flipping her hair over   
her shoulder. Bruck approached with a haughty gate, a flock of initiates following   
behind.  
  
"They were slow, I was just waiting for them," Bruck answered, waving at the   
group behind him. No one countered his accusation.   
  
"Fine. So, we're supposedly going to meet with the masters in an hour, after   
searching for Obi-Wan. The whole temple is looking for that moron," Kinah said   
to the small arc of people, herself and Bruck in the center. She sighed   
dramatically, clicking her tongue.   
  
"I say, we have some fun first!" She said, pointing towards the archives. "It's   
always fun to mess with the librarian's head," she decided, and the rest of the   
group followed slowly, except for one small blond initiate, who lagged behind,   
slower and slower, until the group left without him.   
  
He paused, and then raced out of the room, hugging close to the hallway's wall.   
Glancing around, he made his way to the council chambers. Unfortunately, once   
he reached his destination, he found the large circular room empty and dark, the   
shadows of ships running the length of the smooth floor. The boy's face dropped,   
and he slowly turned to make his way out of the chamber.  
  
"Looking for someone, are you?"  
  
The boy froze, his eyes wide.  
  
"Be afraid, you should not be. Doing the right thing, you are," Yoda chided gently   
as he hobbled across the floor, emerging from the shadows. The boy turned   
slowly, his eyes still wide with fear.   
  
"Come to tell me something, you have?" Yoda questioned, gently tapping the   
floor with his gimmer stick. The boy nodded slowly.  
  
"I… master Yoda sir," the boy squeaked, his voice tight with tension, "I'm sorry,   
but I- I lied."  
  
"Lied, you say?" The small green Jedi said with no sign of anger in his voice,   
"Lied, about padawan Kenobi you did?"  
  
The boy nodded.   
  
"Ah, expect this I did. Another padawan committed this crime, did she not?"  
  
The boy nodded again, shuffling from foot to foot.   
  
"Proof, I had not, until now. The right thing, you have done, like a Jedi." The   
child's eyes lit up.  
  
"A jedi thing to do?"  
  
The master snorted.   
  
"Indeed. Now, need to find the boy, we must."  
  
"Um… don't you want to know who did it?" The young initiate asked, confused.  
  
"Know who broke the vase, I already did. Waiting for you to come to me, I was.   
Need you to convince a blind master, I do."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
More coming, just a little busy right now. - Spaz 


	3. chap 3

……hi.

I used to be big whatever over at final fantasy X… a long time ago. Thus, I haven't written any fanfiction. In about 3 years. I was going over my old stories… and was like aaahh. I used to write, before college and art and boyfriends and band and sororities and stuff.

And I read all of your reviews… and was like aww. I just left them… hanging. :( So… this is for you.  I might be a little rusty…

Chap 3

Dusk had fallen upon the jedi enclave. The world's people did not slow or tire, but only grew excited at the night as gamblers went out, police prepared for romps and the fun began.

Or so it seemed for many, but not for Obi-Wan. He sat alone in darkness, his body resting uncomfortably against the aged stone. Blessedly, his wound no longer throbbed. And amazingly, his heart no longer ached. He was cold, oh so cold. He tried to think. It was hard, like his mind had turned to jelly. He didn't even know if his shields were still intact. How long had he been here? He blinked.

And realized that the thought had more meaning than the obvious.

How long had he been here? In this existence of nothing but remorse, of hoping, wanting. But… never satisfied.

Was it in the code to /be/ satisfied? He certainly wasn't at peace. And if he couldn't be at peace, how could he become a jedi? To be a Jedi Knight. It was what he wanted. It was what he always wanted. And as he sat in the cold of night, alone and wounded he asked himself… is it still what he wanted? He sucked in a cold breath, the air freezing his throat.

He wanted to bring peace. He wanted people to be safe. To live in peace. And… he wanted people to never… /never/ feel whatever it was he was feeling now. So, yes, he still wanted to be a knight. But he wasn't going to survive to knighthood at this rate. He groaned, moving for the first time in an hour or so and touched the wound that marred his side. It was numbed with cold – a blessing. He furrowed his brow and wondered what would happen if he could just numb his mind, his soul.

It seemed to be snowing harder now. Tilting his head, Obi-Wan decided that he'd had enough, and ignoring the spasm of pain, he crept out of his safe hole. The snow fell silently, covering the garden in ice.

"Where IS he?" Mace hissed, his robes swishing behind him as he strode quickly beside Master Tahl. The padawans had all convened in the lobby, whispering amongst each other in semi orderly lines. Qui-Gon met Windu and Tahl at the center, his face lined with worry. The open doorway to the gardens allowed some of the frigid air past the invisible heat fields, denoting the severity of the storm that raged outside. Windu shivered.

"Anything?" He asked, though the answer was obvious since there was no Obi-Wan and an irritated Mace.

"Nothing. I have looked /everywhere/. I don't know what you've been teaching that boy about force shielding himself and this thoughts, but it is impressive," the dark skinned Jedi fumed, his eyes scanning the children in the hall.

"Young Obi-Wan has learnt much, he has," a soft voice filled the air. Silence immediately fell, and on the sound of a wooden cane and claws hitting floor could be heard. Heads turned as the elderly master came into view, a young blond padawan following meekly behind. The pair came to stop before the elder Jedi. The young boy looked nervous, and Yoda prodded him gently with his cane. The boy swallowed, and stepped before Qui-Gon. His young mouth opened to speak, and at first no sound came out. Behind the masters, Kinah and Bruck shoved their way to the front of the line, and both eyes widened at the sight of the boy.

"M-masters," he squeeked before clearing his throat, "I was the one who broke the vase. N-not padawan Obi."

The boy stepped back beside Yoda and bowed his head. Qui-Gon stared in stunned silence while Mace stepped forward.

"I see. Padawan Benek, why did you break it?" The master inquired, dropping to a knee and eye level of the boy.

Benek's blue eyes wavered, catching the glance of Kirah as she stood behind the masters, her eyes flaring in rage. Benek swallowed and faltered, "I-I uh, it was an accident, and I didn't want to get in trouble- I'm sorry master Windu!" The boy took a step backwards, but ran into Yoda's cane and fell, falling unceremoniously to the smooth floor. He looked up, tears brimming. Yoda's large and wise eyes gazed downward, and narrowed at the boy.

"Blame Padawan Kenobi, you did."

"Why?" Qui-Gon asked softly.

Benek's tears escaped and fled down his round face. "I-I-"

Kinah stepped forward, grabbing her master's hand and used the movement to attract Beneks attention. She scowled, her eyes full of malice and warning.

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to do it! But my master – he would've been angry! And, and it was his birthday and I didn't want to ruin it and-"

"Enough," Yoda sighed, and turned away from the boy. "Master Dran, please come get your padawan."

The dark bearded Onderonian stepped forward from the masters, and gathered up his crying padawan. The small green master watched as Qui-Gon swallowed. "Master Qui-Gon, find your padawan we must. Due is his praise for excellent mental shielding," Yoda stated, eyebrow rising. Qui-Gon opened his mouth to speak when-

"I'm here, masters."

The storm blew snow into the large room as the heat shield broke to allow a young boy to stand at the entrance. His hair was tousled, his padawan braid half frozen. His side was charred, though snow covered like the rest of him. He was silhouetted, his face hid in darkness.

Qui-Gon stepped forward, past Kinah and the others.

"Padawan…"

Obi-Wan didn't move.

Kinah grabbed Tahl's hand, eyes narrowed at the padawan boy.

"To the healers, you shall go young Obi-Wan," Yoda said, clicking as he made his way towards the doorway.

"Yes, master," the boy replied tonelessly and began to walk towards the onlookers. Tahl glanced to Qui-Gon, who met her gaze. Concern colored his features as he moved to grasp his padawan by the boys uninjured side, but Obi-Wan continued past, brushing off the gesture and right on into the temple, wound and all. Qui-Gon stared after him.

Yoda cleared his throat. "Time for meditation, it is. Return to your masters and room now, you will," he said gravely, his ears dipping ever so slightly. The padawans dispersed.

"Master-" Kinah asked softly, "Would it be alright if I talk to my brother for a bit?"

"Of course padawan. But be home within the hour and no later," Talh replied.

Kinah immediately made for the darkened corridors, where Bruck was waiting.

"Little fool Benek!" Bruck spat as she approached.

"Shh, wait until they're gone."

Bruck crossed his arms and scowled, watching the younger children disappear into the temple halls. As the lights dimmed, he turned to his sister.

"You're lucky he didn't tell the truth."

She snorted. "If he had, he knew it would be the end of him. Ugh! I can't believe we hung out with that stupid Benek, hes as bad as Obi-Perfect." She began down the corridor, Bruck following with a lazy saunter. "What Master Qui-Gon sees in him, I'll never know. Looser."

"Just wait til next week," Bruck sneered. "It'll be time for the monthly duel. And believe me sis… we'll beat him. We'll beat him."

The healers office was not busy, as Obi-Wan was its only patient. He lay on a gray cot, his robes in disarray as bacta was applied and refreshed every half hour by a monitor. He lay with his head lying straight, his eyes closed. Qui-Gon took the opportunity to study his padawan. The boy's chest was exposed to administer the bacta, and the master was intrigued by the play of newly formed muscles that lined his shoulders and arms. The wound was covered by healing machinery, but ugly bruising radiated outwards and hinted at the injury.

Qui-Gon suppressed a shudder, when he thought about his actions. Wounding his padawan was just… what had happened was unfathomable. Almost as painful as knowing that for one, his padawan had indeed been innocent but two, that the master hadn't known or read through the bond. Granted, his padawan's shields were extremely effective, and now noticed by master Yoda himself. His shields…

Gently, Qui-Gon opened his mind and sent a small tendril probe through their bond. It grazed through the master to Obi-Wan, but even as the padawan rested, the probe ran headlong into a rock-solid boundary that marked Obi-Wan's mind. Somewhat irritated, Qui-Gon tried again with a stronger pulse – and again met failure.

/Padawan/ Qui-Gon sent.

No response.

The doorway to the medical room slid open with a hiss to reveal Tahl.

"How is he?" She inquired, taking the pro-offered hand and sitting beside Qui-Gon.

"He'll be alright. The blade… it bit into his ribs a little. It wasn't severe enough for a full bacta tank, but…"

Tahl nodded. "I understand. I am glad he is to be well again soon." Qui-Gon gave a soft sigh.

"I must return now, Kinah will be back shortly and I wish to meditate with her upon today. Do you wish to join us for tea? Perhaps it will ease you."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Indeed. I wish to speak to Kinah as well, perhaps we can rebuild her vase or make a new one."

Tahl stood, and left the quarters without so much as a goodbye to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon followed her, after all, his padawan slept soundly and wouldn't notice his absence. A few hours with Tahl and Kinah couldn't hurt. He would have time to meditate on the day later.

As the masters left, Obi-Wan lifted one eyelid, staring at the closing door without expression.


	4. chap 4

… "Please don't take another three years to update…" lol.

chap 4

Sleep was hard to come by for Obi-Wan. He was basically "healed", if one chose to call being restricted to quarters and not doing anything physical healed. It was the only way he would be able to participate in the saber sessions, if he was healed and well. His master was else ware, ever elusive since his return home from the healers. Obi-Wan had awoken once earlier to a darkened room. He'd blinked, momentarily forgetting where he was… his room. Since then, sleep had been just out of reach, hopelessly dangling before the young Jedi. The boy grunted, and rolled out of his sleep cot.

His room was rather bare – his river stone rested on his desk, beside his data pad that was currently charging in its holster. The thin carpet was cold and rough against his bare feet. Obi-Wan stood shakily, and sent a hesitant ping of force through the residency, but his master was still not home. He had not seen his master since Qui-Gon had gone to visit Tahl. Thankfully, the padawan felt strangely numb about knowing this fact. Numb like he'd been out in the cold for too long.

Fire hissed at Obi-Wan's side as he moved lethargically over to his desk. Yesterday, had it been only yesterday since the fight? The accident? He decided it didn't matter and sat heavily in his simple black chair that accompanied his desk set. He rested his forearms on the table, his eyes blinking moisture back into his eyes.

Outside, the snow continued to fall. His room had a small window with a synth shade pulled part of the way up, the lower half letting the light of the city cast the quarters with an eerie blue glow. The snow was thick and heavy, silently falling.

Obi-Wan had never felt this cold in his life. It had been as if the coldness had been stalking him forever, its tiny teeth nipping here and there, its frost caressing his heart. But it wasn't until that fight, where his master struck him, and the time he spent in hiding… it was as if all the warmth was gone. There was just nothing… left. Where was his passion? What was his passion?

To become a Jedi.

Or was it? Did it really matter anymore? With padawans like Kinah and Bruck to take his place, why did he even stay here?

His master. Because his master believed in him. He loved his master dearly.

Pity the master didn't love him.

Obi-Wan shook his head slowly, a low groan worming its way out of his chest. His master didn't care. Well, he'd had his suspicions before, but what kind of caring master doesn't believe you when you're telling the truth, the /truth, and listens to another padawan before you? Yes, Xanatos had been arrogant and not trustworthy, but for force sake's he was most certainly not Xanatos. Perhaps his master would never really trust him, perhaps Qui-Gon never had.

And what point was there to being a Jedi when the one you hold dearest doesn't want you? Isn't that what Jedi fight to protect against, apathy?

The flashing of his datapad distracted the boy from his dark thoughts, the small keyboard alerting him that the battery was at full capacity. Lifting his torso off the desk, Obi-Wan lifted the small computer from its resting place and set it on his lap. He paused, and then ran a search:

J e d i

He backspaced,

P a d a w a n s / l e f t / j e d i / o r d e r enter search.

A C C E S S D E N I E D

He scowled, and paused, then entered the username QUI-GON JINN with the password of TAHL. It failed. He tried XANATOS. …. That worked.

The screen blinked green, and displayed a small number of names. Obi-Wan's eyes scanned the data, looking at each name with a sense of curiosity. What drove these fellow padawans to leave? Oh – his eyes fell upon Xanatos. He clicked the name, and an entry came up – a detail of the situation on Telos, and the boy's leaving to join his father, the war, death, destruction. The end of the entry marked with bold red letters – /warning – dark force usage/.

He scanned all the names in such a manner, and in each case, something had happened, some tragedy or some war, something of the darkness took each padawan. The warning of dark force usage lined the last five entries he'd read – and then he stumbled upon an entry that was not lined in red, but a light gray. This particular padawan had been different. It was a she, and she had been thirteen when she'd left he order. No red warnings marred the bottom screen, so Obi-Wan read –

Inryl Dran suffered the loss of her left arm as a result of the explosion. Onderon authorities were able to pinpoint the location of her master's body and the remains here transported to the Jedi Temple…. / Student found deceased five weeks after departure from Jedi Order / -

Obi-Wan blinked, and moved to the next page. Again, a she, and only 17 at the time of the entry.

padawan Karin suffered injury alongside her master. Their attempts and negotiation on the moon of Jaongar II proved a failure. The uprising caused a cataclysmic event in the republic of the world, and three separatist groups rallied against the dominant political group. War ensued, and Master Jedi Arkken fell in defense of the commandent leader of the republic of Jaongar while Padawan Karin continued the defense of the civilian sector on her master's orders. … Upon return to the Jedi Enclave, Padawan Karin remained for her master's funeral, but disappeared shortly afterwards. / warning – whereabouts of student unknown / -

He winced, thinking of the pain the lost of a master must cause a student… and then exhaled quickly when he realized he might be suffering some of that pain. Finally, the last bio Obi-Wan read gave him a sense of familiarity.

Dismissal of the padawan was in error. Master Juk-aiik was faulted with inconclusive data that lead to the expulsion of his padawan. Charges brought against Padawan Jennic were unjust as the boy was innocent. The padawan escaped trial by the Jedi Council after his disappearance after his charges. Lack of the Master's interest in his padawan is said to be the lead to the boy's disappearance and later death. His body was found two months later on a Mandelorian cargo freighter past Dantooine. / Student found deceased two months after departure from Jedi Order / -

Obi-Wan scrubbed his face with his hand – the boy had left. And died. Because his master didn't believe him.

He spun his chair, facing the window again. The snow was thickening as it pelted his window. He wondered where his master was. Apparently it didn't matter. The padawan stood, gingerly stretching his limbs to test his wounds. His joints protested and Obi-Wan felt a wave of dizziness overcome him. He absently shut his datapad and went back to his cot, not bothering to pull up the blankets as he lay there, waiting for his head to clear. He barely noticed himself falling asleep.

"There we are," Qui-Gon said with a small smile, and he and Kinah placed the newly formed clay pot on Talh's mainroom table. Kinah smiled and had her eyes grow large with happiness while she frantically tried to get the dry clay off of her hands by scraping them on the table. The taller master stood and bowed slightly. It had taken last night and most of today to finish the piece, but it was done and beautiful.

"And with that, its off to see to my own padawan. Goodnight," Qui-Gon nodded, and swept out the door of Tahl's quarters.

Kinah watched him leave and then headed to the washroom to clean up. She shut the door behind her and groaned, upset at having wasted a perfectly good evening making a useless pot as opposed to doing something a little more fun. Her brother would surely be off with the group having a good time while she was stuck inside… pah! She grunted, digging the soil out from under her nails. She turned off the water and froze, hearing a familiar voice in the mainroom.

"Speak with you later, I will. Meaning to, I have been."

"Forgive me, master. I have been busy preparing Kinah for the upcoming sparring matches. May we speak tomorrow, after the first session?"

"Meeting me in the council chamber, you will," there was a pause, "Alone."

Kinah swallowed and suddenly found her heart beating faster.

Qui-Gon entered his residence quietly, his thoughts leaning to the pleasant evening he'd shared with Tahl and Kinah. He looked up and into the living room, all was dark. As much as he hated to admit it, a small twitch of some unpleasant emotion stirred within him – oh how he owed his padawan an apology. The vase… had not been broken by Obi-Wan, and the idea that he thought his padawan would do such a thing bothered him. And more so, the accident… the injury. Qui-Gon sighed. He moved silently through the small rooms, sending a quiet pulse through the bond he shared with his student. It was all but dormant now… and as usual he was blocked on the receiving end. It was really something he should talk about with the boy.

The healers had cleared Obi-Wan for the duels tomorrow, though the elder master was not sure it would be a good idea for his padawan to participate after such an event as his recent injury. Another thing he meant to talk to his student about.

He paused at the door to Obi-Wans room, and gently opened it. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, the window producing the only light. Obi-Wan lay curled into a ball on his bed, his skin washed in a pale blue from the windows soft light. As if acting on impulse, Qui-Gon came forward, and sat on the edge of the bed. Hesitantly, he reached a hand to his padawan's cheek, and almost jerked back when he felt the chill of the skin. Obi-Wan made a soft noise, curling towards the warmth. His master paused, wondering how a boy such as this could have been responsible for that act… how he thought that it could even have been a possibility. He shook his head, his hair swaying gently. He reached for the covers at the end of the small bed and brought them over his student, a large hand resting upon them, feeling his student beneath the barrier of cloth. He felt compelled to stay… but no. His padawan needed rest, as did he for the upcoming sparing matches for tomorrow. Nothing could be accomplished by his staying. He stood, rather awkwardly, and made his way to his bed chambers. He hadn't realized he'd spent so long with Kinah, it was late. Tomorrow would be a long day.

sewing the seeds, setting up a story….


	5. chap 5

Chapter 5

Obi-Wan emerged from his quarters early the next morning, his body still sore. The living room was quiet, the morning light casting a warm glow. The boy set two cups of steaming tea on the worn kitchen counter. Taking one for himself, he moved to the window, looking out onto the breathtaking view of the cityscape. His sensitive hearing and shielding picked up his master, the elder taking the remaining cup and moving to stand beside his padawan. Obi-Wan inhaled shakily.

"Good morning, Padawan."

"Hello, master," Obi-Wan breathed softly, his gaze still held by the many ships that flew by the window.

Qui-Gon paused, glancing down upon his student. Obi-Wan's skin was flushed, his hair tousled from a recent shower. The boy wore a loose brown-crimson tunic the color of dried blood, one Qui-Gon had not seen before.

The student waited, waited for something, some words of the accident, some words of compassion for being blamed/something/.

And the master knew he should say something, but the words would not come. Instead, he sent a soft breath through the all but dormant bond, and was rebuked with Obi-Wans hard shielding. Qui-Gon frowned.

"Your shielding is impeccable, my padawan."

Obi-Wan's eyes shut, perhaps to hide the vagrant tear that threatened escape. He nodded once, and finally accepted that his master did not wish to apologize. After all… Qui-Gon was a jedi master. They are /never/ wrong. Obi-Wan couldn't help but shake his head, his teeth gritting in emotion. He calmed, letting the cool chill he'd come to rely on steel his emotions, and turned to face the elder.

"You will be coming to the saber trials today, master?" Obi-Wan asked coolly, his sea green eyes hooded and narrow.

"Of course. However, I am not so sure you are ready to participate-"

"Oh COME master," the boy seethed in quiet growing anger and hurt, "You saw what I am capable of. I wish to participate. I am well. My… wound is healed. Today is a day all padawans look forward to –" he stopped short, eyes lowering. "Perhaps I'll even make you proud."

Qui-Gon watched a myriad of emotions claim the younger boy's face, mostly hurt. Force… his padawan was still very upset over the last few days events. Well, that was understandable. However, the pride that crept into Obi-Wans voice bothered him, much too much like his previous padawan… Qui-Gon paused, and then placed a still hand on his padawan's shoulder.

"I am sure you will, Obi-Wan. Your skill level with a lightsaber is very formidable. I wish I could take credit, but you seem to have a natural affinity not seen in this temple for many a year," the master said, squeezing the shoulder he grasped, but looking away, his eyes lost in thought.

Obi-Wan felt the tears threaten their presence again, but this time in a new emotion. He bowed his head again.

"I am always proud of you padawan. Never forget."

Obi-Wan raised his face, and shocked his master with the sudden wetness that dampened the boy's face.

"As proud as you are of Kinah?"

The master paused, his breath taken, "What?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Thank you for your kind words master, I will keep them with me. Forgive my leave, I must get to the lockers to prepare for today." And with a flurry of movement, Obi-Wan wiped his face with his long sleeve and sped past the confused master. Qui-Gon turned to stop the boy, but he was left with the swish of the entrance door closing.

The elder master stared after him, mouth open.

The locker rooms were connected by a narrow hallway to the training gym and open courts, and the rooms were bouncing with excited voices. Kinah and Bruck charged forward, through the mass of students into the left locker rooms.

"So. Do you have it?" Kinah chirped quickly, hauling her brother to the other side of the commotion.

"Yeah, and I had to pay a pretty penny for it too. This had better work," he fumed, digging through his oversized robes and eventually withdrawing a small vial. Kinah grabbed it, holding the clear fluid before her face.

"Ok," She hissed, "Rub it on."

"Right here?"

"In the locker rooms you dolt! Smear it on after you shower, but don't be obvious about it! And when you're done, give the rest to me!" She grinned.

"I do hope Obi-Wan enjoys our… new perfume."

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was already out of the shower, and dressing. He wore again the darker robes, and was sitting on a bench slipping his boots on when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Obi…" Bant said softly as she sat beside him. "I have been looking for you! I wanted to visit you yesterday but you were in your quarters and I didn't feel like dealing with your weird master," she grinned, nudging him softly with her shoulder. Her smile faded when the boy did not return the gesture or even really respond. She sighed, looking downward.

"I read that you are first seeded for the tournament, Obi. I'm really proud of you. My master says that no one has been so dedicated to the arts in years. I know you'll do great."

Obi-Wan let a weak smile come, and placed a hand on his friends. "Thank you, Bant. I hope I can make you proud of me. Aren't you dueling?"

"No… I don't want to make a fool of myself. Kinah made it perfectly clear that if I tried, she'd make a fool of me," Bant growled with disgust. "I can't /stand/ that girl."

"Then maybe you should just leave the temple now, little fishy," a low voice hissed from behind. The pair turned to see the blond, her blue eyes flashing. "Because as long as I'm here, I will not be bested." Her eyes moved to Obi-Wan. "Some people will learn this today." With a flip of her hair, the young girl stalked off.

"What was that about?"

Obi-Wan shook his head wearily and stood, grasping his lightsaber tightly. "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out. I'll talk to you after the sessions, Bant."

The young padawan watched the boy walk stiffly out of the locker room. Bant frowned sadly.

The masters were seated outside the main dueling circle, talking quietly amongst themselves when Obi-Wan entered the main gym. A quiet confidence stole over him – this was his element now. To him, the practice of the lightsaber was a very personal thing, it was what he chose to do on his own when his master was "busy", it was what he strove to achieve when he felt like he had nothing worth achieving.

Those who were to participate in the trials stood nervously behind the large red line that marked the outcircle. Obi-Wan went to them, making sure to keep as far away from Bruck and Kinah as possible. Fortunately, the two didn't make any move towards him either. Obi-Wan stretched his sore muscles and breathed slowly.

Master Windu came forward, standing in the center of the circle. All quieted.

"Welcome to the dueling tournament. This annual event is meant to test your skills and show your progress. I remind every contestant that these duels are for skill purpose only – and that your saber levels must be on low stun. I wish you all the best of luck. First up – fourth-seeded Kinah against Padawan Siefa Knull." With that, Windu left the circle and all the remaining padwans sat cross-legged upon the floor.

Kinah hissed like a cat, her eyes narrowing as she flipped out her purple lightsaber. Padawan Knull was a younger boy, only 12 years old. Kinah was on the offensive, and after only a few strikes of blade to blade, she had bested the young boy. Obi-Wan sighed, glancing at Bant. The young girl scowled at Kinah.

Duel after duel, the masters would clap appreciatively to the victor as the padawans were weeded out. Obi-Wan was granted only two brief duels because of his high status: He defeated a sixteen year old boy and a seventeen year old girl in under four minutes each. He could feel the heat of Kinah and Bruck's gaze on his back, but he didn't care.

He sat again, his eyes closed, calming himself. He reached out to the force, bending it, feeling it, wrapping himself in it. The force responded, blanketing the young padawan. Obi-Wans eyes snapped open when he heard his name –

"Next match: Padawan Bruck verses Obi-Wan."

A tremor flickered in the force, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. He stood, walking slowly towards the circle. Bruck stood facing him, this thick neck twitching as he cracked it, the sound audible as the chamber grew quiet. Every padawan knew the rivalry between these two students.

Qui-Gon sighed, and watched the ridged form of his student enter the ring. His padawan had shown incredible skill thus far.

"Indeed, he has," Yoda murmured beside him. "Many years, it has been, many years since a student studied so hard. Not since Ki-"

"I know," Qui-Gon cut the elder off, looking straight ahead. "I am very proud of my padawan's achievements."

"Many hours, you must have spent with him in the training gym, hhhhmm?" Yoda said, raising a wrinkled eyebrow.

Qui-Gon said nothing, looking away.

Before them, Obi-Wan ignited his blade and stood at a ready stance. Bruck sneered, also activating his lightsaber. Bruck moved forward, spinning his blade. Obi-Wan stepped backwards and sideways, his eyes steeled.

The meaty padawan charged Obi-Wan, who sidestepped and slid around, blade fully extended at Bruck in a sign of challenge. Bruck whirled, seething, and knocked the outreached blade with his own, thrusting at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan parried, swallowing fiercely, his throat suddenly dry. Bruck advanced, his blade suddenly blurring before Obi-Wans eyes. In fact, most of everything became increasingly blurry.

In evasion, Obi-Wan pulled the force to him, drew it to him, and let if flow. He felt it charge his body, felt it coil through him like a spring, and with this energy, he let it go…

Qui-Gon frowned as he watched his padawan falter, the boy stepping backwards instead of parrying. He was about to turn to the smaller master beside him when he watched in disbelief as his padawan flew high into the air, flipping gracefully over his sweaty opponent. That level of Kata was years beyond the 14 year old boy…

Obi-Wan landed gracefully, having bought himself a few precious seconds. He coughed, his throat dry and eyes watering. Something was wrong, but he had no idea nor the time to figure out what. He shook his head like a dog, trying to clear his senses, but Bruck was already advancing again with a menacing growl. Obi-Wan had no choice – he let his eyes fall shut and called again to the force. He willed it to fill his senses again, pulled it within his form. Through the force, he opened his eyes… and saw the blurry blue form that was the approaching enemy. Something strange was happening… he was loosing feeling. The feel of cool that he'd maintained these few days grew colder still, and the boy realized he was loosing feeling in his body. He didn't know what was going on… but he realized he had nothing to loose. No reason to worry. He let whatever the force was doing… run its course.

Bruck panted and approached, giddy with pleasure. The cocktail of pheromone oils he'd matched to Obi-Wan's precious few allergies seemed to be working – his opponent seemed ill. But as Bruck moved closer, he paused, a shiver running the length of his spine. Obi-Wan's head was bowed, his eyes shut. Bruck shot a quick glance to his sister who stood eagerly on the sidelines – Her look was clear – finish him! Bruck nodded, and moved forward again. But when Obi-Wan raised his eyes to meet his own, Bruck stopped short, a feeling of panic bubbling in his stomach.

Obi-Wan's eyes were an icy shade of blue, his face totally bathed in sweat. His mouth had dropped open and his eyes watered, the tears mingling with sweat and dripping into the open mouth. Bruck wasn't the most force sensitive padawan in the bucket, but he knew enough that something was not right.

Yoda's eyes slid shut, as did many of the masters. A huge surge in the force emanated from Obi-Wan. They stared forward in disbelief as the young padawan raised his blade high into the air.

And moved forward so fast he was a blur.

Obi-Wan was in limbo. He knew what he wanted – he wanted to defeat Bruck. But all else was seared away in a freezing heat he'd never experienced. His body was on fire, and ice cold. His mind was fogged, but he was aware of every breath, every thought every smell of the room. He was aware he was moving, but not what he was really doing.

The audience stared in awe as Obi-Wan completed a flurry of moves, battering Bruck helpless. Within no more than a few moments, Bruck lay sprawled on the floor, panting, his lightsaber seven feet away. Obi-Wan towered above him, eyes intense, his blade extended above him for a killing blow.

"Obi-Wan!"

Qui-Gon was before them in an instant, his hand raised to his padawan. All the masters rose as well, coming forward. But Obi-Wan seemed not to notice, his eyes still bearing down upon the whimpering Bruck. Blood had begun to drip down Obi-Wan face, his nose and ears bleeding thick red liquid.

Yoda scurried beside Qui-Gon, "Quick, the bond you must use!"

Qui-Gon tried to access it, but per usual it was dormant. He threw all his energy into making contact with his student, but whatever was happening to the boy was fueling the shields he had up. "I-I cannot-"

And then Obi-Wan brought the blade down to the fallen student. Gasps filled the chamber, but no other shriek was louder than that of Bruck, who's face drained of color. The blade bit inches from his ear, the heat sizzling Bruck's hair and cheek. Obi-Wan's neck was now bloody, his eyes… tearing. But he was looking past Bruck now, past his master, to another master, master Tahl… and the Padawan that cowered behind her.

With a horrifying lack of sound, Obi-Wan was running towards Kinah, blade extended, his eyes nearly glowing blue. Qui-Gon's eyes widened, and he reached out to stop his padawan but was pushed aside with incredible force as the boy ran past. Tahl steeled herself, blind but aware of danger. Kinah screamed as Obi-Wan raised his blade –

And froze.

In his mind, Obi-Wan was thoroughly lost. He could see murky shapes of blue and grey and red, but nothing made sense. The numbness of his body was turning to pain, incredible pain, his blood was boiling-

Obi-Wan was heaving now, his body shaking tremendously. Blood was dribbling out of ears and eyes and nose and mouth, his eyes rolling up in his head. Behind him, Yoda stood, arms outstretched as if holding the boy there. Qui-Gon stood from the ground, racing to his padawan.

Yoda winced, astounded at the force that the boy wielded, and grunted as Obi-Wan moved again, towards Kinah. She screamed, racing into the approaching Qui-Gons arms. Qui-Gon caught her in surprise, and looked up to see Obi-Wan faulted, his eyebrows frowning over the disconcerting white of his eyes –

Suddenly, the world returned to Obi-Wan. Screaming agony ripped through his veins as the numbness vanished, and his sight returned for but a moment. The last thing he saw was the sight of his master holding Kinah before he collapsed into a bloody heap on the ground.


	6. chap 6

Your reviews make me happy. :)

Chap 6

It was dark when he woke the second time.

The first time had been a mass of chaos, the nerves in his body screaming in confusion and pain. He heard words, but they made no sense, he saw lights but they were blinding. Blessed oblivion descended shortly after the episode of light and raw feeling.

This time, the boy came too gradually. His body felt like it had been hit by a bantha, his muscles heavy and sore. He was laying on a cot or bed somewhere, probably the healers clinic. His arms, upon glancing down, were taped, with long thin tubes of bacta seeping slowly into his bloodstream. He inhaled shakily, drawing what had to be his first deep breath of air in some time for his chest felt heavy and stiff.

He winced, trying to remember –

"Hold him! Hold him!"

"Scanning-"

"Oh force, his bloodstream!"

"Lets give him 80 cc's of decuria-"

"No, his midichlorians are already severely agitated-"

"Lets whip down his face, clear the blood-"

"Call Master Yoda! We need his guidance! I've never seen readings like this,"

"Severe allergiac reaction…."

"… master…"

Darkness.

Force, he was sore…

Obi-Wan swallowed, his throat dry. Something had happened to him. Something odd. He vaguely remembered dueling, but not clearly. He remembered incredible power, and incredible pain. He groaned, bile rising into his throat. He winced, where was his master?

… Probably with… Kinah…

A single tear slid down Obi-Wans face. It fell unceremoniously to the pillow by his ear. He raised his hand, clenching his fist as the tubes of bacta slid from his veins, small droplets of blood dripping to the sheets.

0oooooooooooooooooooo0

"I demand to know who is responsible for this!"

Master Qui-Gon was furious, turning a full three hundred sixty degrees as he addressed the assembled Jedi masters. His tall form was surrounded in the great hall by an outlying ring of masters with the padawans silent behind them. Jinn's feet scuffed loudly on the marble floor as he paced, eyes dark.

"My padawan is not capable of such violence! You saw what happened to him, how he behaved. He was fine this morning, no signs of this-"

"But who would commit such a heinous crime? For what motive?" Tahl asked softly. Behind them, the padawans glanced towards Kinah and Bruck, eyes cold as steel. But no one spoke.

"Committed out of anger, this was," Yoda said, clacking as he hobbled to the center to Qui-Gon. "Strange it is, how young Obi-Wan is accused. Strange, this is not the first incident. Strange indeed." A murmur went up through the crowd

Windu shook his head. "A cotangent, specifically designed to the DNA of Kenobi was acquired for this. Who would have access?"

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. He turned,

"Kinah."

All eyes turned to the back of the room. All padawans moved away from the brother and sister.

Tahl stepped towards them, standing before her padawan protectively. "What are you talking about, Qui-Gon?"

"Last week. Kinah was in my quarters while Obi-Wan was at the gym. She asked if I could access the Jedi database for research purposes for one of her classes…"

Tahl frowned. "Kinah would never do such a thing." Behind the master, Kinah swallowed, cowering.

Qui-Gon advanced on Tahl, his eyes positively glowing. Yoda cleared his throat.

"Call up the access records we can, Master Jinn," Yoda said lowly, indicating for Windu to do so. The room was dead silent as the dark skinned master made his way to a nearby consol and began pecking at the terminal. A short time later, he reported-

"Last week, from the residency of Qui-Gon Jinn, restricted files were accessed. They contained... Padawan Kenobi's medical files." Windu paused, looking to Yoda. "His medical files contain his known allergens. One being Meticasis, a fungus used for force sensitive when they have bond damage. Obi-Wan is deathly allergic. Symptoms-"

"Are of the worst variety, for force users. Painful, the midiclorians become when agitated."

Yoda turned to face Kinah. He clacked past Qui-Gon to Tahl.

"Feelings of jealousy and anger, your padawan hides Jedi Master Tahl," Yoda said softly. He hobbled his way around the small master, facing the padawan. Kinah recoiled, her fists clinging to the back of her master's robes. "Why such anger, young one?" Tahl sputtered, moving in front of the girl.

"She had nothing to do with this!"

"How can you deny it, Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked, almost brokenly. "The records show-"

"That much has happened of recent that goes unnoticed, hhmmmm," Yoda said, gently moving Tahl aside with his cane. Kinah stood, face down. A green clawed hand to the chin of the girl revealed a tear soaked face. She shook her head.

"I came here, after Bruck. He- he said that he wanted Master Qui-Gon for his own, but no, Obi-Wan was better. Always better. He doesn't deserve Master Jinn! We do!" Murmurs sprang up through the crowd as Kinah turned away, anger in her posture. Tahl stepped back, mouth open.

"The Jedi way, such thinking is /not," Yoda stated, grimly shaking his head. Kinah growled, stepping forward.

"I am far ahead of these padawans! My family are T'Cloith! We are the most powerful force sensitives in our galaxy!"

"And the best at mental shielding in their galaxy," Windu commented, raising an eyebrow.

"I am the best of my age, my class! Do I not deserve the best Master?" She pleaded, large damp eyes glaring at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon sighed and dropped to a knee before the girl.

"I gave my time to you, child. I have spent hours upon hours with you these past months as your master recovered. Perhaps at the cost of my own padawan, I now see. I gave my time and energy to you, is that not enough?"

"You're not /mine/ Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan oh how hes the best, best looking, best at the lightsaber, ahead of his class, better than my brother, its not /fair/ What does he have that I don't?"

"Grief."

Bant stepped forward from the padawans. "Insane grief. He misses his master so badly, yet he's never there, he's with you. Congratulations, Kinah. You achieved your goal," She stopped, tears burning, "You've distracted the master long enough to leave Obi-Wan all alone."

Kinah bared her teeth at Bant, to her master's dismay.

"Padawan," Tahl whispered, before falling silent.

Qui-Gon stood, his height towering over Kinah. While previously, he never seemed harmful to the young girl, she stepped back as hostility radiated off of the Jedi Master. He looked to the crowd.

"Are there any here who would speak out against this? Who knows the truth of recent events?"

Many, many small hands rose in the air. Kinah and Bruck each gasped.

"Then let this be dealt with. With your permission master, I wish to see my padawan now."

"Should have seen him long before, you should. Pray to the force you can make amends we do. Go," Yoda said sternly. Qui-Gon nodded and made his way at a brisk pace out of the audience chamber.

As he made his way through the long corridors, Qui-Gon again attempted to reach his padawan through the bond. He inhaled sharply – And started towards the medward at a jog.

It was as if the bond was not only dormant, but… cold. Frozen. Unused. Broken.

The elder master rounded the final corner and hastily opened the door to his padawans sick bed and felt himself grow heavy, his breathing rapid as he saw what in his heart he sensed-

The bed was empty save a few droplets of blood.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Commandent Rynik Draum was getting very… irritated.

"For Bawlk's sakes, what on Telos is taking so long?" He growled into the communications station, his nimble hands bracing the worn leather pilots chair. Static was his answer. He sighed, running his hands through his raven black hair, scratching at his eyebrow. Two hours of his life, wasted. Two hours he was never going to get back because he was sitting at the Inter-Republic Couresaunt Space Port. Two hours because they had upped security for some reason or another. Two hours behind schedule. He groaned.

"Apologies, sir, we expect your take off within the next hour, sir-" the terminal buzzed.

"You said that an hour ago!" Rynik barked, exasperated.

"Within the hour-" The channel closed.

Rynik bowed his head for a moment, then stood, wincing as many things cracked in protest. Rubbing his knuckles on his worn tan uniform, he struggled to get the tingly feeling out of his feet and wobbled to the back of his ship.

"Aw Alastor, I wish we were up and gone already," He murmured to the ship, his hand touching the bulkhead as he strolled the narrow corridor. Before he entered the main cargo hold, a light winked on and off to his right.

Giddy, he punched the communications patch.

"Commandent Draum."

Rynik's smile faded into a scowl.

"Yes, Senator Palpatine. For what do I do the honor of this fine transmition?" He said monotone. Oh for crying out loud, not more politics. Please.

"One… final request to you," the sly senator's voice inquired. "A package I wish to locate."

"Package? What do you mean?" Rynik asked skeptically, drumming his fingers on the door pannel.

"Just your luck, really. I've discovered… a valuable… parcel within your immediate location. A boy."

Rynik snorted. "A boy."

"I have contacted authorities in your immediate area. They are searching for him now. In the event that he manages to board a vessel to leave orbit, I wish for you to… return him to me."

Rynik frowned. A kid? Why would a senator be so stoked to capture a kid?

"What aren't you telling me?"

Palpatine practically sneered through the intercom. "He has… great potential with my associates if he continues on his current path. Return him to me when you find him." The link went dead.

What the hell? The officer thought to himself, turning and making his way back to the cockpit. He was an ambassador of the Askenti system, not a babysitter. Hell, after today he hoped never to step foot in this galaxy again, it didn't suit him. He preferred to live beyond the rim, beyond the corruption of the republic. And no stupid request like finding a lost boy was going to delay his departure.

The tall Medinan sat with a huff in his seat, leaning back and resting his head on the back edge. His hooded brown eyes took in the chaos of the largest port in this system. Several maintenance droids puttered before his ship, beeping back and forth to each other about who knows what. A protocol droid stepped into his field of vision, accompanied by several republic soldiers. They flanked and appeared to be searching the area.

The kid, Rynik thought to himself. So the greedy little rat of a senator really wanted the boy bad. Rynik snorted.

Before him, a small cargo ship taxied onto the landing pad, the rusted hunk of metal quivering as the ship hovered to its takeoff point. Rynik was envious – the sooner he got out of this system, the sooner he'd be back home.

The ship seemed to stall half way onto the pad. The commandent closed his eyes. Yet more delays? Upon opening them again, a large cloud of steam emanated from the ship, and he blinked in surprise when the outer hatch opened. A dug was piloting the craft, and seemed irritated as he booted what looked like a sack out of his ship and slammed the door. The ship began to move again and the cloud cleared –

Rynik sat forward when he realized that the "sac" was moving. And stained red. Concern flashed in his mind. And then realization – was this the boy? He frowned.

Without hesitation, he stood and grabbed his blaster from its holster and opened his own hatch, dropping with a grunt to the dirty grating below. Outside his ship, the port was loud, noises and signals screaming in every which direction. He made his way to the bundle on the ground.

It was indeed a boy, dressed in loose tan robes and speckled with dried blood. Rynik tried to yell, but it was useless over the din of machinery and noise. He squatted, touching the boy's shoulder. A mess of golden hair emerged from the fabric, eyes squinted and disoriented.

Rynik was about to ask who the boy was when he caught sight of the bright outfits of republic guards. Scowling, he grabbed the boy and hauled him upwards, only to have the youth crumple to the ground. Rynik swallowed, and scooped him up, ducking back to the Alastor.

Once in the relative safety of his ship, the pilot plunked the boy down in the corridor. It was just a kid – whatever the senator wanted with him, it was probably not something healthy for the boy. Huge, luminous sea-green eyes examined him. The boy did not speak.

Rynik swallowed. "What are you running from?" He asked, his tone gentle.

The boy opened his mouth to speak, and after a moment-

"I.. I don't know. I'm running from… pain, and dreams."

"I tell you what kid, you've got some nasty people running after /you/. See all those guys out there? They want you."

The boy shook his head, closing his eyes, "I don't know why – I just… I can't go back- back to being forgotten." The boy opened his eyes, tears glistening. Rynik inhaled, and looked at him – dried blood around the nose, too thin, dirty. Something metal poked out from his belt. The boy glanced down, and was quick to hide it.

"I cannot go back to them."

Rynik nodded, seemingly thinking. "So… you're running away from your past, essentially?"

A nod.

"And you don't wish to be Jedi."

The boy started, eyes wide. The pilot put his hands in the air in a gesture of peace.

"No, no, its ok. Well… let me tell you something, kid. There is a nasty, nasty little buggar of a politician looking for you – never a good thing. And you don't look like life's been treating you well. Um… I know this… guy. He said to me once – Don't run away from your past…" Rynik paused, looking past the boy, " Run towards hope."

"Where is hope?"

"I don't know. But if you want to run with me, you can."

The boy paused, wiping his face with his dirty sleeve. He looked up at Rynik, his small fourteen year old hand reaching to the pilot.

"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and… I want to have hope."

Rynik smiled gently, and took the boy's hand, his grip warm and firm.

"Hello, Obi-Wan Kenobi. My name is Rynik Draum. I can't tell you where it is, or what will make you happy. But I can get you away from the Senator."

"Where are you going?"

The pilot smiled. "Why, I'm going home. Beyond the outer rim of this place."

Obi-Wan looked to the ground, blinking back tears. "Is it nice there?"

Rynik stood, pulling the boy up with him. "The world and people I serve are proud and strong. There are few force users there – it's the strength of will that makes us strong." Obi-Wan followed the man to the cockpit of the ship. Rynik motioned for the boy to take a seat. "I was… running away too, when I was about your age. And then I met a man who would one day be a king. And he told me to run towards hope too."

The padawan sniffed, watching as the tall man started inputting data into his terminal. The man turned to look at him, offering that genuine smile again. "I could take you to him. He's a good man."

Obi-Wan braced himself as the ship began its way to the landing pad. He watched in silence as many, many republic troops flocked the area… all looking for him? Why did the senator who he'd never met want him? Was it the Jedi employing them to find him?

Could he really go back and watch his master look at him in disgust, as it had been for months?

"Mr. Rynik."

"Yes, Obi-Wan."

"I want to go."

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Qui-Gon Jinn sat alone in his padawans room, his hands clenching a small round object. Yoda came in slowly, and stood before the master.

"Too long it took, to realize. Too long, we left him alone."

Qui-Gon lifted his head, his eyes moist, face a mask of pain.

"I forgot him. For her. I didn't even realize it. What kind of master am I? What have I done?"

Yoda was silent. Qui-Gon laughed hoarsely, shaking his head, long strands of soft hair swishing before his blurry vision.

"He's gone. I know it."

Yoda grasped his knee, holding tightly. "Find him, you must. Before too late, it is." The elder master looked deeply into Qui-Gons eyes. "The dark, I sense, chases him. Too much pain, anger, and it follows him."

"No, not Obi-Wan-"

Yoda squeezed again. "We must find him. You must find him. Love him, do you? Wish him to become his dream, a knight?"

A breath - "Yes."

"Then we find him. And when we do – never again, let him go."

"Never… never again."

Yoda stood back, and motioned for the dejected master to follow. "Another Padawan, I will not loose to grief. Another Padawan, we will not abandon to the pain of being alone." Qui-Gon inhaled sharply, closing his eyes at yet another painful memory. Determined now, he stood, and followed Yoda out into the temple.


	7. chap 7

I hope you grow to love… and hate the characters I'm starting to introduce. This is obviously, AU. To better your fun, I will add the links to a few images I've done thus far – I will add them as a review. Enjoy.

I will incorporate a few prelim concept drawings in these chapters to better your feel for the action.

Enjoy. I've been looking forward to these chapters for some time. Its going to be a fun ride when everything starts to fit into place. I've laid the building blocks in the first few chapters… did you find them:)

OoooooooooooooooooooooooO

Chap 7

Obi-Wan eyed the pilot as he dozed in front of the navigational console, his booted feet balanced precariously between two important looking instrument panels. The Alastor, the ship, was warmer than most star cruisers. Earlier, Rynik had said that his home planet was by large a desert world, so he preferred to keep his beloved ship warm and comfortable. That was fine with the boy.

To be frank, he was feeling… rather numb, regardless of the temperature. He, now days away from the temple, seemed… just numb. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. He wanted to get up from his huddled ball in the copilot chair, but he couldn't.

His sea green eyes watched as stars streaked by at incredible speeds. This ship was taking him away from the only home he had ever known. Rynik seemed confident in their destination… but Obi-Wan didn't even know this man. How could he trust? Then again, how could he trust anyone again? His own master, betrayed –

Rynik groggily opened an eyelid and tilted his head, hearing a scuffing noise. A moment later as reality set in, he realized, it wasn't a scuffing noise. It was a person.

Slowly and deliberately, the stocky man turned, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Obi-Wan turned away, his muffled crying buried in the mound of robes. Rynik swallowed, scratching his neck, glancing to the floor with indecision.

"You ok, kid?"

The boy made no reply, but silenced his crying. Gritting his teeth, the elder man stood, many things popping unhealthily as he straightened himself. He made his way to the boy unsteadily, and knelt down on one knee below him.

Scrubbing his face, Rynik paused, and then reached and placed a large warm hand on what he hoped was a shoulder of conjoining bone under the mass of cloth.

"I… I'm really not very good at this," He began, and cleared his throat, "And I know we really don't know each other or anything. But… eh, if something's bothering you-"

The boy slowly revealed his head, like a turtle, from his cocoon and stared at the hand that was placed on his shoulder. His gaze traveled to warm brown eyes, and the elder main raised an eyebrow.

"I miss my master."

Rynik nodded, and stood, sitting on a conduit near the boy.

"What happened?"

Obi-Wan shook his head slowly. "I- he, its-" A bark of laughter, though it was colored with anything but humor. "I feel like I wasn't good enough for him. I was… taking his time away from people whom apparently deserve him more than I." A pause – "I think its better this way. If I'm not meant to be his padawan, I'm not meant to be anyone's."

The pilot looked at Obi-Wan in surprise.

"What?" the boy asked.

Rynik shook his head in disbelief. "Its just – I've heard someone say just those words, a few years back."

Obi-Wan leaned forward. "You know other jedi?" he asked suspiciously.

"Me personally? Yeah, well, I guess, its hard to describe."

The boy was silent, crossing his arms over his folded legs, full attention on Rynik. The man sighed.

"It's the Scion, is all. He knows everybody and he knows what you might call a Jedi, I don't really know how it works."

"Scion?"

Rynik leaned back, his hands expressive before him. "Where we're going, the Askeni system, is pretty unique, I'd say. Its essentially a bunch of planets, all different kinds, that have an alliance, kinda like your Republic. There hasn't been war in generations. Each planet has, for generations, sent its best and brightest to the world of Ghan, kind of the center of everything," he explained, "And on Ghan is something like a senate, a council. At the head of the console sits the Scion, the guy who is a descendant of the guy who first headed the alliance. He's called the Scion of the Vanguard."

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Right. So. Right now, the Scion's name is Bareli Khas. Real good guy. He's got this… way with people, real compassionate but a complete nasty fellow if you get on his bad side. He's a strong leader."

"Wait, so the Scion is a dictator?"

"No, not so much. There are checks and balances within the console, and the Scion is not the only representative of Ghan. But he's, lets say a figurehead."

The boy nodded again, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. "So, you're taking me to see this man."

"Yea… I'm sure he can help you find your way."

"Even though he knows nothing about me?"

Rynik stood, and reached up, looking in an overhead compartment. "Well, I'll tell you this. I never heard of anything or anyone called a "jedi" in my system before I met Bareli. They just don't… exist I guess. Well, yes they do? He says that another brand of Jedi came from one of our worlds, one that was destroyed. Say they were… not a good people. But the Jedi person I know? Not a bad person. And all I know about you, I learned during my studies of your galaxy, and that's from a tourist guide book I got from a frelling old time Mandelorian looking for food money. Aha!" He pulled a worn blue blanket out of the bin, and, pausing to smell it first, seemed to deem it fit for the boy. He handed it to Obi-Wan, who hesitated, then accepted with a small smile.

"Get some sleep, kid. Its only a few hours till' we reach our destination."

Rynik moved to the pilots chair while Obi-Wan frowned.

"How can we be there already? We haven't been gone that long."

"Aaah," he rumbled, sounding deeply satisfied. "That's the Alastor for ya. My people's crafts? Way more advanced that your guy's pieces of space junk. My baby and those like her can move over seven times as fast as your fastest puppies!" He grinned over his shoulder, but it softened into a smile when he saw the small boy wrapped snugly in the blanket with his eyes closed. Rynik turned away, and watched the universe pass.

Obi-Wan was roused by voices. Blinking blearily, he lifted his head.

"Commandent Draum, you are cleared for Port Cullis Gate Senek one."

"Copy that, command. See you shortly."

"Confirmed. Standing by."

Obi-Wan stood, wobbly at first as he walked up to the front of the ship.

"Woah, buddy –" Rynik said, immediately lifting his hand off the console. "Do me a favor? Sit back down."

"Why?"

The pilot snorted. "Because you outworlder hasn't obviously been in a Cullis Gate before."

"A what?" the padawan asked, hastily sitting back down.

Rynik continued inputting data into the console with apparent ease. Well, honestly, we are several homeruns away from my system still. The fastest way to access we Askeni's," he said, bringing up a hologram of a language Obi-Wan didn't understand, "Is to cut through space itself."

"I don't understand."

"A worm hole, my boy."

Obi-Wan blinked.

"Way way way back when, the Askeni's tamed worm holes – built Cullis Gates around them. They keep the worm hole closed until needed while they are all controlled on Ghan -–another big reason we keep a lot of smart people there. Now-" Rynik grinned, "Lets show you what the Alastor is all about."

Obi-Wan swallowed, gripping his chair as he felt the inertia of the Alastor suddenly loosing speed. There before him was a huge… disk. It looked almost ancient – built of stone, not of any man made thing. Around the disk were a series of what seemed to be locks. The ship slowed, and finally halted, facing the massive structure.

"What are we waiting for?" Obi-Wan asked, momentarily forgetting about the temple, the masters, Kinah and Bruck – his eyes open wide with wonder.

"I don't control the gate. Its like traffic control outside a busy world – we wait for Ghan command to open it."

As if on cue, the locks on the outer rim of the disk started to grind, the sound of stone moving reaching the ship. Massive in its size now, the disk itself began to expand, pieces of the inner circle coming to the ring's edge to create an opening. Inside the opening, was darkness. Obi-Wan swallowed, looking to Rynik nervously. He gave a warm smile, and suddenly, his face was bathed in light – light that poured out of the newly formed ring. Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt like he was flying.

0ooooooooooooooooooo0

Qui-Gon sat wearily on the living room couch of his friend Tahl, his hand absently stroking the resting woman's forehead. He leaned his head back, lets his jaw drop open. Below him, Tahl was stretched out on the couch, her head laid heavily in his lap, her breaths deep and even with sleep.

How foolish, they were. How foolish they all were. He wanted to sleep, but it would not come. Hadn't come since his Padawan had left the temple – probably wouldn't come until he was found. Alive, or dead. The master shuddered.

He glanced down, thankful that his friend had finally found rest. Tonight was to be a difficult night. Earlier, a grand moot had been held. He, along with Tahl and most everyone in the temple, had been individually questioned about the recent happenings. It was unbelievably difficult for Qui-Gon to sit there and watch as so many padawans spoke about horrors the brother and sister had committed, not only against his padawan but anyone whom crossed their path. It was just… so wrong. So wrong.

And he had blindly helped these two children achieve their goals. Force help him. Force help him.

Now that he thought back, he could see it clear as day. His padawan curled up, alone his bed, the rain lit window casting light over his pained face. How could he have not seen?

He knew, that since Tahl's near death, he'd gotten closer to her. And naturally, to her padawan. If only he'd opened his eyes. All he wanted, even more than to have Tahl with him –

Was to see the gentle warm eyes of his padawan. His son. Not like Xanatos. Like... Obi-Wan.

A tear escaped its prison and made its way slowly before being trapped in an old master's beard. A soft knock broke into Qui-Gons thoughts. He looked to the door and it opened to reveal Windu. The dark master looked dead tired and worn. Qui-Gon asked with his eyes –

"Expulsion. They leave in two days."

Then, Windu turned and left.

If only it had been earlier. If only he had believed his padawan.

Tahl moaned softly in her sleep, and Qui-Gon lay a shaking hand on her forehead, soothing her. He closed his eyes.

Nothing but the sight of his Padawan would sooth him.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooO

Palpatine was furious.

He hissed like a vengeful cobra, his hands turning white as he gripped the edge of his ebony table.

"Our apologies, sir, we searched everywhere –"

Calming himself, the senator put a smile on his face, smoothly walking around the desk.

"It is of no concern. A pity, we could not return the young Jedi to his masters at the temple. I will … look to others to find him. You may go, lieutenant."

The Republic office nodded stiffly, and practically fled from the room. Upon the hiss of the door shutting, the senator's demeanor rapidly became one of anger. Casting one last glance at the door, he ordered it locked and dimmed the lights in the small office of the newly elected Senator. He sat in his chair, his throne, and activated a small device from the arm.

"Master."

Palpatine sneered. "Young Maul. You have made use of my Holocrons."

Maul bowed, his newly branded tattoos glowing eerily through the transmission.

"I have progressed much in your absence, my master."

"Indeed. It is time for you to test your new skills then," the sith growled, "I want the boy. I want him alive. And I want him now."

Maul didn't move a muscle, yet his hesitation was evident.

"My lord, the boy is with the system elders. To successfully infiltrate Ghan, of all places-"

"Is your task. In order to flourish here in this system again, we must procure our future /now/." The senator leaned forward, baring his teeth. "Use the old ways and our old allies if you must. But bring him to me."

Maul stiffened, and bowed low. "As you wish… master."

OoooooooooooooooooooooO

Preview of next chapter- check the review :)


	8. chap 8

Chap 8 

Obi-Wan felt like his stomach was in his head and his heart in his feet.

When he managed to get his eyes open, it took a moment for the cabin to stop spinning, and when it did, he felt like he was going to throw up.

"Eh, its like that the first time for everyone," Rynik said from somewhere off to his right. "Look!"

Blinking rapidly to ground himself, Obi-Wan drew a quick break and felt his jaw drop.

It was… beautiful.

They were flying low across a large body of water, the ship so low that it seemed to skim the surface. Twin suns blazed across the sky, lighting the mist above the water.

"And that –" Rynik pointed, "Is Bastieel, port city of Ghan." On the horizon, the glint of metal reflected the sunlight. A few moments later, Rynik decelerated the craft, and they flew over the coast into the city itself. Obi-Wan peered over the consoles, noting how different the architecture was than what he'd seen before. It appeared as if a series of ancient temples made of the same stone from the Cullis Gate was almost fused with modern metal architecture, the buildings interacting with each other by what seemed to be tubes and walkways.

"Ghan is really, really old. This world has been civilized for thousands of years, without war or decay. After seeing the worlds you come from, constantly under siege of corruption, it makes me appreciate this place so much more," the pilot said casually, lifting the ship into a higher orbit, avoided what appeared to be mass traffic near the building tops.

"Commandent Draum, you are cleared for landing in terminal four," a woman's voice chimed sweetly over intercom.

Rynik leaned back, jabbing something on the arm of his chair. "Confirmed, target locked. Tell customs I've got a plus one outworlder, full clearance."

"Understood."

"What does that mean?" Obi-Wan asked, gripping his seat as the craft suddenly descended.

"There's usually a bunch of political stuff that has to happen when we bring someone who's not from our space into Ghan, but I'll make an exception for someone as special as you," Rynik grinned toothily. "I'm going to take you right to Bareli himself, because I think you're worth his attention." Obi-Wan ducked his head, embarrassed.

The ship began to shake, and it leveled itself and began to sink into a sudden pocket of steam. Rynik waved off the alarmed Obi-Wan, and a few moments later the ship thunked to a halt, resting on safe, safe ground. The padawan exhaled.

Rynik stood with a bounce, motioning for the boy to follow. Obi-Wan stood shakily, fingers gripping h is lightsaber beneath his robes, searching for something familiar. He followed the taller man out of the cabin and out into blinding light. Obi-Wan shielded his eyes, pupils protesting.

Several people dressed in more decorative but similar tunics to that of Rynik stepped forward, each bowing slightly to the pilot.

"Commandent. We applaud your efforts of diplomacy with the outworlders. Your successful mission pleases the council." Rynik nodded and accepted some kind of notepad, before looking back to Obi-Wan. He extended his hand to the boy, and the padawan stepped forward, stopping beside the pilot.

"This is Obi-Wan Kenobi," Rynik said with sincerity, placing a large hand upon the boy's shoulder. "He is under my protection and we are to see the Scion immediately." Obi-Wan blinked, bowing his head to the new faces and was mildly pleased when they eagerly returned the gesture.

The party made their way away from the docks – the ships were almost hard to pinpoint – each entering vessel was immediately engulfed in some kind of steam. The boy wondered why, but didn't have time to ask as they took a sharp right and entered a dark room. Rynik placed his free hand on the boy's shoulder to halt him. Around them, lights began to flash in an upward motion, and Obi-Wan realized they were moving downwards in a turbo lift of sorts.

Two great bay doors opened to reveal a grand hall, with bright sunlight streaming in through large open windows that stood over a hundred feet tall. The same ancient architecture lined the walls and pillars with streaming blood red and gold banners billowing in the breeze of the open windows. Obi-Wan felt dwarfed as they marched down the corridor, the sheer size of the building awe-inspiring.

As they approached the end of the long formal hall, two large feline creatures were carved into stone on either side of a decorated doorway. Rynik stepped forward, pressing his hand into some mechanism. The doorway slid open.

"Commandent. Welcome home," A deep monotone greeted them. Draped in silken robes, a tall man with a slightly hooked nose greeted them his hands palm upwards in welcome.

"Ardemis, the pleasure is all mine," Rynik said with a nod, his smile growing as a woman dressed in similar robes joined what Obi-Wan assumed was her counterpart.

"Indeed! And yet I am so glad to have you home after these many long weeks. The Hawk's Guild has been missing you," the older woman praised, her flaming orange hair tightly wound into a bun, seemingly formal.

"Ardemis, Galliya, it is my extreme pleasure to introduce you to Padawan Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi," Rynik grinned, his hands on the boy's shoulders. Obi-Wan swallowed, off balance from the attention, and bowed low.

"Another? Ghan is most blessed!" Galliya gasped, kneeling to Obi-Wan's level and touching her forehead with her hand, which the boy assumed was a sign of respect. Obi-Wan smiled softly, touched by the gesture.

"Jedi?" Ardemis asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why did you bring him?"

Rynik swallowed, scratching his head, looking at the boy. Obi-Wan swallowed and straightened his back.

"It was the will of the force. He was there when I was, and told me that perhaps I should stop running away from my pains and run towards hope."

"I like his advice," a deep, resonating voice applauded. Obi-Wan turned to see a tall man approaching, his hands clasped behind his back, his robes similar to Ardemis's but with a large feline next to a sort of star embroidered on the front in shimmering gold.

"My lord," Rynik bowed deeply.

"It pleases me greatly to see you home safely, my Commandent. Forgive my intrusion – word spreads like fire. You are Mr. Kenobi?" The balding man asked, his voice deep and regal.

"Please sir, call me Obi-Wan."

"Well then. Obi-Wan," the man said, holding out his hand, "It is my deepest honor to welcome you to Bastieel, and Ghan. I am Bareli Khas."

Obi-Wan accepted the hand, his grip firm. The Scion smiled warmly.

"Um, sir, I brought him here because I thought maybe you could, um, talk with him?" Rynik said uncertainly, "I mean I know you're busy-"

"Oh course, Rynik. It would be my pleasure," Bareli said evenly, "My most trusted advisors – I humbly ask you to take our decorated Commandent for a good warm meal as I speak with our guest."

"Yes, my lord," Ardemis said smoothly, nodding and turning his back on the Scion and his small companion.

"Come, let us talk."

Obi-Wan began to walk slowly beside the taller man, his fingers gripping and rubbing the handle of his saber beneath his robes. The boy followed the elegantly dressed man past the main chamber and into a warm, sunlit garden. The aroma of the plants immediately invaded the boy's nose and he automatically inhaled, the scent pleasant and soothing.

"This was my grandfather's garden – it is called T'thalin, or, in our neighboring world, T'aman, "forever sunlit". I often come here to think, or find peace."

"We have a garden like that too, on my world. We use it for meditation," Obi-Wan said, reaching to touch a soft petal of a dark blue flower. It was soft and smooth. He turned to see the older man sitting, robes and all, on the grass. Obi-Wan swallowed, and sat opposite him, cross-legged.

"Tell me, Jedi padawan. What brings you to Ghan?"

"I … I felt I have nowhere to be."

Barali grumbled deep in his chest. "You are a padawan, you belong with your master learning the ways of justice and peace, so I am told."

Obi-Wan looked down. "I'm not so sure."

"I see. Is that why you chose to travel halfway across the galaxy to a place you've never been before with a man you'd never met?" Bareli raised an eyebrow.

Ever so softly… "Yes."

"Ah."

The boy shook his head, fighting the rising emotions. He brought his head up, peering deep into the chocolate brown eyes of a man he didn't know. "Rynik said you could help me."

"In order for me to help you my boy, I need to understand what's wrong."

Obi-Wan looked beyond the man, and then, as his master had taught him, beyond the moment, and spoke. "I love my master very, very much. I am honored to be called his padawan."

Bareli's eyes crinkled. "But…"

"But… I am not enough for him. Not worthy. He spends his attentions on other padawans, those who deserve him. I… I'm too weak, I cannot be so near yet so far to him – I had to go, rather to run far, far away than feel that pain." The boy dropped his head, a single tear sliding from his green orbs. "Its been too long – it just hurts so badly – I feel so cold, so alone. Rynik, he was… warm. Like my master used to be to me."

"I see."

"It was foolish of me to run, I know, but, how can I become a Jedi Knight if I hurt so badly all the time?" he asked, looking at the older man with a piercing gaze, "How can I be all that I can be when I know I'm not good enough anymore?"

Bareli frowned, scratching his smooth chin. "Perhaps… it is not you whom are not 'good enough'. Perhaps the master misses the prize in the sunlight because it is hard to look at."

"I don't know."

The elder lord sighed. "I must admit – all that I speak of, I know of only through reading of your Jedi kind and through the stories I have heard."

Obi-Wan rubbed his fingers on his robes nervously. "You… can't help me," he said, sounding defeated. He had thought… such hope…

"Rynik was right to bring you here, I think. It is not I, who will help you. But I know of one whom perhaps can. Perhaps… it was the will of your… force?"

The boy looked hopeful.

"This… is a place far from the reach of your world. It sounds to me that there is a grievous error in the way your establishment is run, to allow such a fine lad to endure such pain. Perhaps you can find your answers here, among friends. We will help you as we can, young knight, but I must tell you this – all the answers you seek cannot all be found here. Resolution will ultimately be made with the one whom you run towards and from –" the man raised his eyebrow.

"My master."

"Yes."

Obi-Wan nodded and lowered his head respectfully. He felt so far away from everything he knew, yet safe in the presence of this man. And he felt lucky to have met him, millions of miles from the temple. Obi-Wan smiled.

"What?" The Scion inquired.

"You would make a good Jedi, Lord Khas."

The deep, rumbling laughter of the elder lightened Obi-Wans heart.

"I like you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. And I have a special seat at my dinner table for people I like. Come. I will call the one whom with you shall speak too. But first, let me introduce you to a fine Bastieelian meal."

0ooooooooooooooooooooooo0

It was fairly unceremonious, the leaving of the brother and sister who had caused so much damage. In a primal, less intellectual part of his mind, Qui-Gon Jinn might have preferred some to see more punishment, yet he knew that this had to be good enough.

Kinah was standing off to one side, dressed in civilian clothing, a knapsack tossed to one side. Tahl stood to her left, but the three foot gap and defensive posture of both parties radiated their feelings. Bruck was boarding the cargo ship, his bags being searched. Both children looked downcast.

Qui-Gon watched the scene with an expressionless face. Part of him had hoped that this event would bring him some sense of comfort, but he found no pleasure in watching the children leave. Just as he had felt no pleasure in defeating Xanatos – it was an empty feeling, and empty, cold achievement or victory. The price of the victory was just too high.

Bruck boarded the vessel without so much of a backwards glance. Qui-Gon hoped it would be the last time he would see the boy.

Kinah, knowing it was her turn, handed her knapsack over to be inspected. He watcher her waiver; the girl hesitated, then threw herself into Tahl's arms, crying and begging. The Jedi Master patted the girl comfortingly, but then gently nudged her up onto the ramp.

Wiping her eyes, the girl made eye contact with Jinn, and he watched as she glared at him with pure hatred. Even with such evidence, he felt nothing from her – she was indeed well talented at hiding her emotions from her fellow force – sensitives. He watched her board the ship, and it took off without a sound, for all the elder jedi heard was the blood rushing in his ears.

He didn't remember walking back to his quarters. He didn't remember walking to his padawans room, empty, desolate room, and didn't really recall falling bonelessly to the bed. He certainly didn't realize anyone else was in the room, and it wasn't the first time a young padawan girl befell the weeping master, and rubbed slow circles on his broad back and whispered meaningless comfort in his ears.

Bant didn't know what compelled her to show such pity, such concern. He was the reason her best friend was gone. And yet, he was the reason her best friend was here in the first place.

"Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon," the twelve year old girl whispered, squeezing his arm. The elder man looked up, shields down, raw emotion in his cerulean eyes.

"I didn't realize, I didn't, see, didn't –" His words became garble, his breathing harsh. He dropped his head to the unused pillow, gasping painfully when he realized the scent of his padawan was still strong. He grabbed at it clumsily, holding to him.

"Look at me, Jedi master."

Bant was staring at him, her slender and small hand gripping his shoulder.

"We have to find him. We have to bring him home. And you have to prove, again, that this is how you feel. Tell him you want him… and you love him."

"I… miss him…"

Bant shook her head and grasped his chin – "Just as he's missed you for so, so long."

"Time for meditation it is, padawan," a low rumble came from the doorway. Bant nodded to the elder Jedi master, and slowly descended to the floor, casting one last glance, and left the room.

Yoda levitated to the bedperch, and sighed, touching the quaking master's shoulder.

"Find him, we must. For sake of both, find him, we /must/."

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Obi-Wan walked the corridors of the lower levels of the court temple with Rynik, making small talk. The city of Bastieel was indeed beautiful, and now, the pair enjoyed a small walk after a magnificent meal.

"So. You a ship fan, Obi-Wan?" The Commandent asked.

"I guess, yes," the padawan replied, hushing a quiet burp that threatened exposure.

"Then you'll be in for a treat!" The pilot said heartily, his black hair billowing gently as they walked beneath a ventilation shaft. They paused outside a door with the engraving of a bird, a hawk. "See this?" The boy nodded. "This is the seal of the Guild."

Rynik opened the door to reveal a small hanger. Dim lighting revealed a small craft, similar to the Alastor.

"I'm Commandent, which means that I am on the council, like Ardemis and Galliya, but it also means I am head of the Guild of Hawk, the pilots of protect this system," Rynik said, guiding Obi-Wan to the ship. It was obviously in for repairs, parts of the hull were disassembled. Obi-Wan reached up and touched the metal, its texture smooth and cool. Yet… he felt something, like a spark through the metal. It sent a shiver down his spine. Obi-Wan frowned.

"This is a planetary defense ship, a smaller version of the Alastor," Rynik explained, oblivious to the discomfort the padawan was feeling. He continued to talk while the boy thumbed his lightsaber, eyes open and alert in the dim room. It was at that moment, there was pitch black darkness and all went silent.

"What the!" Rynik started, and then a hiss could be heard. Obi-Wan deeply inhaled and held the breath, using the force to extend the oxygen. He whipped out his lightsaber, and closed his eyes, looking through the force.

In a haze of blue, he could see the outline of the Commandent slumped lifelessly beside the doorway, alive, but unconscious. He was the only life form in the room. Turning hastily, Obi-Wan felt his heart rate pick up. The hiss of gas had stopped, and, out of breath, the boy took a hesitant gulp, and suddenly felt dizzy.

When he opened his eyes a moment later, the lights were back, albeit dim. The boy, gasping for clear air, backed up against the ship, leaning on the hull. Oh, how he wished his master were here – his master… he wondered what his master was doing…

In a half daze, the boy noticed that something entirely too red was entering his field of vision – though he couldn't tell if it was through the force or actually there. He blinked rapidly, watching the door hiss open. A man, shrouded in darkness stood before him, feet wide and shoulders broad. Something radiated off of the creature like poison, something that hissed like snakes, that clouded his vision and made it hard to breathe. Obi-Wan gasped in fear, clumsily bringing his lightstaber up and activating it, the blue glow lighting the misty room.

/All this time running, and now, here you are/ a voice whispered in his mind, dancing and twisting. /I wonder what your master is doing at this moment, hmm/

My master…

Not here…

/No, he's not, is he/ the voice taunted as the man came closer, stalking his prey. Obi-Wan thrust his lightsaber in front of him, in a feeble attempt to intimidate the intruder. The saber was batted aside in a flash of red fury – and Obi-Wan found himself face to face with red light, red heat, red skin and red eyes… red death…

And light. Bright, yellow light filled the room. The red man hissed, visibly scowling. Behind him, silhouetted by the door, stood another figure. The red man twisted violently, twirling his red lightsaber.

Maul roared in him mind, seething. Why had he not detected its presence? He dropped to a defensive stance, standing between the boy and the enemy. The robed figure stepped forward, and with a swirl of a cloak, discarded the cloth and stood still as stone.

Obi-Wan breathed heavily, the air seemingly thick to his blurry vision. Suddenly, the room was a flurry of motion. Red was attacked by shimmering gold, more gold than red, and the waves of force nearly knocked the padawan over. He blinked, struggling to clear the fog from his mind.

He remembered his master's words. Qui-Gon always said – when you feel drowsy or drugged, reach for the force, let it cleanse your mind… The padawan took a cool breath and imagined the force washing over him… And he almost shouted in panic when he saw the blur of two figured locked in a fierce lightsaber duel. The dark… had to be some kind of dark Jedi, was locked in combat with an amazing… other Jedi of some sort, the likes of which Obi-Wan had never seen. A breather mask covered the Jedi's face, his movements graceful and strong. They checked and rechecked, blades bouncing off each other. Both wore dark outfits, and in the flurry of motion, Obi-Wan's still fuzzy sight could only tell the difference through color of blade, and the red skin on one verses the mask of the other.

Red skin was knocked back, as the masked Jedi advanced. In perhaps anger, the dark robed red Jedi extended his blood red blade, perhaps in warning. Obi-Wan swallowed, the sudden fear of the situation burning his lungs as he breathed. The man's red blade stood still, despite the heavy breathing.

The masked Jedi did not seem impressed, and with a quick spin, the golden beam of lighstaber doubled in size. The dark Jedi hissed. And then again it was a flurry of movement. The speed of it was nauseating to Obi-Wan, who wanted nothing more than to succumb to darkness, yet he knew he could not.

And then, the red was gone, leaving only the gold. The red skinned man was clawing at his face, his neck. It took a moment for the boy to realize that the masked Jedi held one arm out, a hand extended. The red Jedi gasped, dangling in mid air. Obi-Wan recoiled as his mind cleared –

These were /sith/. Oh sweet force this was the /dark/ side, like you read in history books –

The red tattooed Sith was choking, near unconsciousness. With a flick of the masked Jedi's wrist, the tattooed Jedi when flying into the ship, hitting the surface with an audible thwack of cracking bone. The masked Jedi stepped forward, nearer to Obi-Wan. He wore a slim cast of un-Jedi armor with an opening at the left shoulder, where rather Jedi-looking robe hung loosely. However, the rest of the body was covered in slick black and red armor, the right hand gloved at twirling the double-sided lightsaber above the red skinned Jedi's twitching limbs.

A mop of brown hair covered part of the mask, and a smooth, low voice erupted from the speaker of the breather –

"Crawl back to your master, Maul."

Maul bared his teeth, trying to haul himself upright, arm around his midsection. The masked Jedi did not seem phased.

"Tell him that this boy is /not/ for sale. Do not make another attempt such as this again, if he wishes to keep his most /loved/ Sith apprentice."

The dark Jedi hauled himself upright, calling his lighstaber to his hand with a strong pull of dark force. Obi-Wan gasped at the intensity of it. Maul appeared to be considering his choices, his toxic yellow red eyes glaring at the padawan. The masked Jedi stepped in front of the boy.

"Go now. They are coming. Go."

A scowl: and the dark Jedi was gone.

The masked Jedi stood still, save for the deactivation of the lightsaber. He had been correct – moments later, the little area was a flood of guards and people. Obi-Wan recognized Galliya as she reached for him, checking him, worry written in the lines on her aging face.

"What was it?" Ardemis's voice cut through Obi-Wan's awareness, the force singling out the conversation amidst the chaos.

"Dark Jedi, came for the boy," the robotic response from the breather mask gave.

"Gods," the man breathed. "Come, I'm sure Lord Scion must need informed-"

"Wait."

As Galliya mothered Obi-Wan, he watched as the masked Jedi came forward. He really wasn't that tall, now that the padawan's vision was clearer. He stood before the padawan, mask almost frightening looking.

"Why are you here, padawan?" the rasp of the breather mask inquired without emotion.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

"Spire! Let the poor boy be!" Galliya scolded, looking at the Jedi. "He's had enough for the moment, give him a moments rest! And would you take that breather off, you look a fright indeed!"

The Jedi cocked his head at Galliya, and flinched when Ardemis placed a hand on his shoulder. Turning away, the Jedi allowed the taller man to unlatch the breather, and peel it away. Standing now, Obi-Wan spoke steadily –

"I came here to find someone who can help me with my feelings, and I was told that person is you," the padawan stated.

The Jedi turned to face the boy, her face dripping sweat, hair clinging to her sharp eyebrows, grey eyes piercing. Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. The woman stared at the boy without emotion, and without another word, turned and left.

"Oh, forgive her, she's a bit hard to warm up to at first," Galliya said, grasping Obi-Wan by the arm and leading him out of the chaos of the room. But Obi-Wan halted, and hurried over to a prone man.

"Rynik!" Obi-Wan said frantically, touching the man's shoulder.

"He'll be alright, Obi-Wan," Galliya assured, "The whole sector was knocked with a powerful contingent, enough to keep everyone under for several hours. Come, let's meet with the Scion and make sure you're alright."

As they headed out of the corridor, Obi-Wan thought again of the red skinned man, and shuddered. The power… the awesome power of the dark side had chilled him to the core.


	9. chap 9

I 3 your reviews.

Chap 9

Obi-Wan sat beside Rynik, rubbing his thumbs over his cuticles. He felt… lost. The whole ordeal had shaken the padawan to his core. And he had no one to meditate with, not his master, not Bant, not anyone. The closest thing he had to a friend was lying on the cot beside him, breathing deep and even. Obi-Wan felt a sudden onslaught of homesick, and buried his face in his hands. Where was he? Why was he so far away? He missed his master…

He wondered if his master missed him?

A warm hand cupped the back of his skull, and Obi-Wan flinched upwards. Rynik looked at him wearily, eyelids heavy.

"S'ok?" The pilot slurred.

Obi-Wan nodded, imagining it was his master who lay there, safe and sound and concerned. He shook his head, embarrassed at the thought and smiled thankfully at the pilot. But the Commandent's eyes were shut again, head tiled to one side.

"He's going to be fine, dearest," Galliya said softly from the entranceway to the small room. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please," Obi-Wan said thankfully, casting one last glance to his bedridden friend and stood, following the tall woman out of the healers.

"Who is Spire?" Obi-Wan asked, walking beside her down the long spiraling corridors of the Embassy.

The older woman gave a soft sight, hands clasped before her as they walked.

"Spire has been in the service of Ghan for several years now, she is our Master of Arms, a general," the woman said, "She is devoutly loyal to the Scion, and serves as not only his advisor, but personal body guard at times."

Obi-Wan nodded, rounding a corner with the elder woman.

"How did she come to be here? She is an amazing duelist."

Galliya frowned. "Indeed. Her past is indeed shrouded in secrecy. I knew that like you, she was not from our part of space. Perhaps you should ask Lord Khas? He is sure to know all which you seek."

"Alright," Obi-Wan agreed, and followed the woman into what seemed to be a dinning hall. Ardemis and Khas were speaking quietly at the end of the long table, though both nodded to the boy and elder.

Obi-Wan sat a ways back, nodding gratefully to the young man whom brought him a tray of tea and small crackers. For the first time in many, many long months, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and let down his shields, his protection.

In his mind, the training bond was frozen, frigid and cracked with ill use. Obi-Wan breathed on it, let his mind fill the causeway. He blinked and started violently when he felt something breathe back from the other end.

…./master/ he whispered.

"Obi-Wan."

The boy jumped, and looked up, startled. Bareli looked at him quizzically, taking a seat to his left.

"My apologies, sir, I was just thinking," Obi-Wan panted, rubbing his ear.

"All is well, my boy. Now," the lord said, glancing at Ardemis from across the room, "I first and foremost wish to apologize for not offering proper protection. I do not understand the nature of whom wished you harm – but I apologize nonetheless."

The padawan shook his head in dismissal, taking a sip of tea – it was sweet and warmed his throat.

"I was in the conference room last night with several members of "management", if you will, when out of the blue, my general stood up and bolted for the door. Apparently she sensed danger."

"Is she a Jedi Knight, sir?" Obi-Wan asked intently.

Bareli leaned back in his chair, putting a hand palm down on the sheer wooden table.

"I don't believe she attained that rank, no."

Obi-Wan frowned. How can that be? What else could she be?

"Her story is a difficult one to tell. Plus, I do not know of her home, where you are from, nor the worlds of the "Republic". She has told me some of her past life. But I do not believe she was ever knighted."

The padawan shook his head. "She had to be, from what I saw, she is amazing with a lightsaber! That kind of skill comes from strict self discipline…"

"You speak as if you know what you talk about."

The boy nodded. "Often, when upset that my master was… not around, I spent my time training to distract myself."

"Indeed," Bareli nodded, sipping his own tea. "Well… she told me, she was, during her apprenticeship, well known for her rare skill with the double sided blade. She told me of how she used to participate in duels among students, of how her master allowed her to train with an ancient Jedi whom mastered the blade."

Obi-Wan blinked and inhaled.

"Oh, force!"

"What?" The Lord asked, frowning.

"Her name… Spire…" Obi-Wan looked at his hands, then back to the confused man before him. "Her name is Karin Enspire."

Bareli narrowed his eyes.

"How do you know?"

The boy looked down in thought, a smile lighting up her face. "I read about her in texts, the top duelist of her class four or five years ago and –" he squinted, rubbing his index finger on his jaw, "I don't remember what happened to her."

"Her master died."

Obi-Wan's eyes shot upward, meeting the elder man's. … He thought back to the night he looked into the records, of padawans….

Oooooooooooooooooo-

padawan Karin suffered injury alongside her master. Their attempts and negotiation on the moon of Jaongar II proved a failure. The uprising caused a cataclysmic event in the republic of the world, and three separatist groups rallied against the dominant political group. War ensued, and Master Jedi Arkken fell in defense of the commandent leader of the republic of Jaongar while Padawan Karin continued the defense of the civilian sector on her master's orders. … Upon return to the Jedi Enclave, Padawan Karin remained for her master's funeral, but disappeared shortly afterwards. / warning – whereabouts of student unknown / -

Oooooooooooooooooo-

"She disappeared. Like I just did."

Bareli nodded. "I sense many similarities between you two."

"She didn't seemed thrilled to see me."

The Scion chuckled, the firelight casting shadows over his aging face. "She comes off that way at first. It took her a long time to trust me." Bareli touched his hand to his chest. "She has had a painful time in recent years."

The boy nodded. "The death of a master or of a padawan is terrible."

The king huffed, crossing his legs. "Especially in her case. She blames herself everyday. For not getting there fast enough, for not being good enough. She keeps it all to herself, but its there, that even I can sense." He sighed, pinching his nose. "There is so much I don't know about her. She is so strong, so proud. I know she would sacrifice herself in a moment for me, or for any of Ghan."

"She… uses the dark side of the force," Obi-Wan said in a hushed voice. "I- I think she did? I haven't any experience –"

Bareli leaned in close, tipping his head downwards. "Spire is a wounded creature, Obi-Wan. There is much pain that lives in that heart. I know that before she came here, she was in… a bad crowd. But I also know that the love she carries for her master still, after all these years, and the love she carries for me is enough and all I need to know that she is on the side of good." He said the words with such conviction that Obi-Wan realized that perhaps the girl was not a dark Jedi after all. Bareli's eyes traveled upwards, and the padawan turned his head –

Spire entered the room, made eye contact with the pair. A look of displeasure flashed across her face but then it was gone, and she was making her way across the floor. She held herself with a quiet dignity, no emotion in her movements.

She sat slowly across the table from her leader and the boy, resting her hands loosely before her. She nodded, her voice tired. "Sire. Padawan."

Bareli extended his hand to her. "This, padawan Kenobi, is my Master of Arms, Spire. Spire, I believe the boy would like to have a few words with you." Despite the fact that Obi-Wan sensed she really did /not/ want to do that, she nodded.

"Yes, sire."

She turned her eyes, her cool grey ones meeting his of ocean green.

Obi-Wan chose his words carefully, curling his toes in anticipation.

"You're Karin Enspire."

She tongued the back of her molars, looking down briefly before meeting Obi-Wan's gaze. "Yes. Though I would prefer that you just refer to me as Spire. It's a good a name as any."

He nodded, sudden adrenaline burning his chest. "I'm – a huge fan, though that's not the reason for my wishing to speak to you, Ma'am." She glanced at Bareli, who sat contented, sipping his tea. She nodded, blinking heavily.

"I… left the Order."

"Obviously."

"It was such a fast thing, one moment I was there and it seemed the next, I was here."

"Why did you leave?" she asked monotone.

"My master… I felt that I did not deserve him anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Who is your master?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn."

She swallowed, eye brows rising sharply. She sat back, crossing her arms over her armored chest.

"Why do you feel you are unworthy of your master?"

Obi-Wan slowly, then gaining momentum, told the story of the last few months. Despite her cool demeanor, she gave the padawan her full attention, listening intently without interruption. When it was over, the young boy sat still, though she could feel the tremendous emotion swirling within.

She sat silent for a few moments, seemingly gathering her thoughts. Obi-Wan tried to calm his tense nerves and took a sip of now cool tea.

"Firstly – I do not believe your choice of actions was correct. Running away from your problems is never the answer. Yet, here I am, though our situations were hardly the same. So I offer these words to satisfaction," Spire said, straightening her back, a small crack audible. "I honestly believe I have an idea as to why your master is acting in such a manner."

The boy blinked, hands tightening on his cup.

"You said that what you felt to be your actions caused risk to Tahl, correct? I know for fact, that Jinn has strong feelings towards her. Plus – you almost abandoned him. I have not seen the Master in many years, but I remember clearly the pain of Xanatos's betrayal. I am sure that did not bode well for your relationship."

Obi-Wan dropped his head. Spire sighed. "I am not blaming you for your actions. Master Jinn can be extremely wise in the force, but at the same time be completely oblivious to what's right before him. And for that man to accept another padawan," Spire leaned forward, looking deeply into Obi-Wans eyes, "Must mean that you are one very special boy." Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, ignoring the pinprick of tears behind his eyes.

"Now," Spire said, leaning back again, "I'm going to go ahead and say that the Jedi order, despite their good ratings and public view, are not infallible. It doesn't surprise me that this has occurred – the masters are not as omnipotent as they seem. But you could have gone to Yoda with this. He's a good creature and could have told you exactly what I've told you with a far smaller fuel bill of getting you here."

The padawan felt a sting of guilt, the kind he sometimes felt when being scolded by his own master.

"But then, I would never have met you."

Spire raised her eyebrow, and huffed, looking off to her left.

"Perhaps it would have been best that way. I didn't ever expect to be found by a Jedi here."

"You don't consider yourself a Jedi?" Obi-Wan asked, confused.

A dark look passed over the woman, and she turned her head slowly to face the padawan. He felt a shiver race up his spine.

"I ceased to be a Jedi the day I let my master die," She said lowly, eyes burning. Every nerve in Obi-Wans body tremmored, and again the padawan sensed the cold presence of the dark side emanate from the woman across the table.

He steeled himself –

"Are you a dark jedi?"

The last thinkable reaction to being accused of such a thing, laughter, burst from the woman, a bark of laughter that chilled him to the bone. She leaned forward again, and whispered –

"They only wish."

Obi-Wan shook his head, "I don't understand."

"I am neither good or evil, young padawan. I just… am. I serve my purpose, I do as I am told by a good man. If that is what it is to be a "light" Jedi, then so be it."

"But I felt it! The dark side lives in you!"

Spire straightened and crossed her arms again over her chest, staring at the boy. Behind her, a young woman replaced the teapot with a fresh batch, and Spire held her breath, waiting until the woman had retreated to continue.

"Then lets have a lesson. The "dark side" lives in all of us, boy. You must feel it, the heat of pain, something other than the cold of being forgotten by the one you hold dear. I use the dark side of the force just like I use the light – for me, it is but a tool to serve my Scion. But- it's chasing not me, but you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. If you choose to give in to the pain, let it consume you, and forget to find reason, those you call "dark jedi" will have found themselves a powerful ally. But ultimately, the choice, for now, is yours."

"For now?" He whispered haggardly.

"There were many dangers of leaving your temple, in such rash haste. The dark jedi earlier, the man who came for you did not come of his own accord. His superiors want you. Hell, they'll take any force user they can turn," Spire said nonchalantly, drumming her fingers on her armor plated biceps. "If they get you, things won't be so easy. Right and wrong won't seem so far apart and who knows what will happen to a boy like you with people like them."

Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath, worrying over this new information. A moment or two passed in silence.

Then Spire laughed softly, "Don't fret so, padawan. While I'm sure Lord Khas has told you how similar we are and how much I can help you, I will affirm this: I will not let them have you. It's the least I can do for Jinn's padawan." With that she looked to her Scion. "Anything else?"

Khas opened his mouth to speak, but decided against whatever it was he meant to say. Glancing at the boy, he was pale and trembling.

"I believe this is enough for today. You may go, though I will see you later tonight."

"As you wish, Sire," Spire said softly, standing and stretching her shoulders.

Obi-Wan also stood, reaching out across the table. Spire paused and looked at the outstretched hand as if it were the possible carrier of some disease. But she composed herself, and took the hand, holding it firmly.

"I'm glad to have met you, Karin," Obi-Wan said softly, withdrawing the hand and following Bareli out of the common room. Spire squinted, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. She turned and moved closer to the fire, sitting heavily in one of the elaborately embroidered Ghanin couches. She tilted her head back and let her eyes fall closed, mouth slightly open.

"So, how did it go-o?" A smooth, deep voice asked politely as she felt the couch sink beside her.

"Glorious. I've got a fan club from half a parsec away."

Ardemis sighed setting his drink on the small end table, and leaned back, propping his head up with his fist.

"And how are /you/ doing?"

Spire swallowed roughly, lifting her head and opening her eyes, glancing at him. "I'm unsure. I feel, perhaps that my safe haven has been intruded upon."

"How so?" he asked, slipping his fingers into his dark hair, tapping his skull.

She sighed. "I don't know. I feel as if I have a home on Ghan, a purpose on Ghan, and most blessedly, a new life away from my memories here on Ghan. I find I do not like being reminded of the past."

He nodded, taking his hand and resting it gently on the back of the young woman's neck, and began to kneed gently. She dropped he head and let her eyes slide closed.

From outside in the corridor, Obi-Wan thought deeply on the conversation he had just been part of.

"That went rather well, yes?" The Scion asked kindly, handing his empty tea cup to a passing maid as they walked.

"She doesn't trust me."

"She doesn't trust anyone. Well, I am proud to say I believe she trusts myself, Ardemis and Galliya."

Grumbling, Obi-Wan thumbed his robes. "The Jedi Console would have a fit if they knew she was still alive, let alone using the dark side of the force."

Bareli looked at the boy in surprise as they walked. "Really?"

"Of course. The records show she disappeared without a trace some five years ago."

The lord clasped his hands behind his back, nodding, looking upwards while lost in thought. "How odd. I did not meet Spire until four years ago. I wonder what she spent her time doing. Perhaps, she was not even in this galaxy." The king shook his head and paused outside a door. "I believe someone was looking for you, Obi-Wan."

Bareli touched the keypad to reveal a disgruntled Rynik, sitting hunched over some papers at a work terminal.

"Rynik!" Obi-Wan said, delighted.

"Kid!" The man said warmly, and Obi-Wan entered the office. Bareli nodded, and headed out, letting the door slide closed behind him. The Scion stopped in his own office, gathering some documents and other things he needed to read that evening. He trusted the boy with Rynik – it was late, and much of the compound would be resting soon. The Commandent could take the boy for the night.

Bareli spent some time in his office, longer than he intended. Finnaly, after several hours of paper work and the like, he sat back in his large chair, looking at the small carving of the a feline that guarded his desk. He blinked, and rose, turning off the lights as he exited.

As the Scion headed back to the residential area of the structure, he pondered the conversation between the two students of the "force." He frowned to himself, pausing outside his officer's door. He palmed the doorkey, and stepped inside the cabin.

Spire's residence was sparse. A small computer terminal rested on her small desk in the main room, with a few ancient books lining the walls. A ill-used sleeper sofa faced a small holovid. Bareli continued into her cave of a sleeping room, for it was always dark. Ardemis sat beside her bed in a soft chair, his arms crossed in the darkness. The Scion wondered what they had been talking about before he entered.

He slowly lowered himself to sit beside her. She was silent, but he knew she was awake.

"How are you?" The elder asked, his deep voice soft in the darkness.

"Thinking."

"About?"

She paused, hesitant to reveal her thoughts.

"The past."

Bareli placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"What part?"

Even in the darkness of the room, her eyes found his and something flickered there.

"The dark part."

"The part you refuse to tell me about."

She shuddered ever so slightly, and Bareli only knew it because he touched her. She clasped her hands tightly together on her stomach. She closed her eyes briefly, then looked to her king again.

"I feel it in me, the darkness. The pain. There was a time… when I let it rule me, and I was but a tool for the darkness in us all." She looked away, to the wall. "It is the wish to make my master, my… leaders proud, to honor them that keeps me from becoming something horrible, I sense, sire." She clenched her jaw.

Ardemis leaned forward, and rested his larger hand upon hers.

"Your guilt haunts you," he whispered. "He would never have wished it upon you."

Spire made a soft noise, swallowing thickly. Bareli looked to Ardemis, who nodded.

"My child," Bareli whispered, "I thank the gods each day for your presence. It's a miracle you found your way halfway across the galaxy to us, how you've done it I still do not understand, but I do not question. I know I, nor anyone else in this world is the man you long for. But for as long as you wish to stay," he smiled, "We will always be here for you."

A small, rare smile lit Spire's face.

"You honor me, my lord."

"Fair night, my general. Please think upon my words." The lord stood and exited. Spire lay in stoic silence, her form rigid. Ardemis knew enough about the silent warrior to know she was upset. But as usual, she kept it to herself.

"Say, perhaps you would like to watch the worldspan with me? I missed it earlier today." She agreed, and wearily lifted herself from her bed. It was this time of night that memories of the past plagued you, whispered at you when you had no defense. He led her to the sofa and she sat as he activated the holovid, the news popping on with low volume. The elder man sat heavily beside her. Ardemis knew for fact that she ached, even now, the death of her master. He had his limitations, mostly placed by her defensive wall, but sometimes, like now, he could do small things to ease her burden.

In the quiet of night, a lost Jedi padawan's head dipped forward, and when snapped back, rested against the soft of a gentle man's arm. A hesitation – but it was allowed. Ardemis gripped her shoulder tightly and breathed softly.

Similarly, Obi-Wan dozed quietly on Rynik's plush couch, his hands twitching. The pilot kept an eye on the boy as he filled out paperwork, his least favorite thing to do. A few moments passed, and the Commandent was deep into the separation of hull segments and frames when a hurried sharp breath and the pained word, "master," broke his concentration. He frowned, and stood.

He knelt, his hand on the boy's shoulder, rubbing tenderly.

"Master," The boy said again, brokenly.

"Master," Spire murmured in her light sleep, the sound hoarse.

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Maul tried to intake as much air as possible, but it didn't seem to be doing any good.

He lay on the floor writhing, in pain. Beside him, two Sith Masters stood vigil. Again, Darth Sideous commanded a force spike, and one of the Sith placed his palm outward, again blasting the crumpled man on the floor. He gritted his teeth until his gum bled, but withstood the awesome pain without crying out.

"Enough. Rise, Maul."

Wheezing, the young apprentice stood shakily, his nerves still screaming.

"Your failure causes me much… concern."

"For-" Coughing, hacking, "Forgive m-me, Master. There was another with her, a Jedi-"

Sideous hissed, "I will take it upon myself to bring the little padawan creature here, to me. Obi-Wan Kenobi will see the error of his ways, and join us. It has been foreseen. Perhaps as my own apprentice, if you do not reach… higher achievements."

Maul bowed his head, silent.

Darth Sideous turned his head, blue and blurry in the long-range transmission. "Contact the other Sith Lords in your system. We have a galactic senate to wreak havoc upon. Perhaps when Kenobi's precious master tastes the blade of a sith and falls, the boy will… consider coming home."

Despite his injuries, a small smile lit Maul's etched face.

0oooooooooooooo0

A/N's

So, I was going to continue, but christ, 12 pages. O.o

Some things. First, and this in a pet peeve –

CAR-en / EN-spire. Think/say it right. :)

Also, when I designed my characters looks, here are some casting things. Bareli Khas would be played by patrick stewart. Ardemis by Alan Rickman. Galliya, Sigourney Weaver. Rynik is kind of the brunette rouge – perhaps Gerard Butler? No Scottish accent though. Spire? Imagine Spire as the part of yourself that's lost someone. And Spire's master, probably…. Someone like Sam Neil.

I know there was a lot here… more action-y stuff coming next Thanks for reading! More twists and turns ahead.

S


	10. chap 10

Chap 10 

Obi-Wan Kenobi woke to silence, save for soft breathing below him. He blinked – Sunlight streamed in through the open window, its warm breeze gently stirring his senses. He knitted his brow, stretching luxuriously. He found himself stretched out upon a soft, comfortable couch, the light dancing over it in bizarre patterns as the curtains blew.

Rolling over, the boy dangled off the edge of the cushions, almost falling upon the man below him. Rynic lay beside him on the floor, a pillow scrunched behind his head, an arm tossed over his eyes. Obi-Wan felt a surge of affection for his new friend – the man had stayed with him all night.

It was morning – whatever the time cycle on Ghan. He was not always a morning person, but Qui-Gon had seen to it that the boy rose at a reasonable hour. It seemed that the habit had formed regardless of his master's presence. Cautious of the sleeping man beneath him, Obi-Wan slid silently from the couch with the grace of a feline, draping his blanket over the man who snored softly beside him.

The boy padded out into to corridors. He was starting to learn the layout of the Temple, Castle, whatever the building was. Feeling overly small in the massive hallway, he stayed close to the wall, listening to the sound of many footsteps echoing from down the way.

He hurried, listening to the rustle of people moving. Pausing behind a massive stone column, flashes of gold and red, black and tan rushed past. Many, many people, dressed in less advanced clothing, robes like himself, rushed through a huge doorway that Obi-Wan recognized was the first room he'd been in, the throne room, the room where the Scion held audience. He sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve.

"Obi-Wan!"

The boy skittered, spinning. Galliya stood, arms crossed behind him, her expression stern, but her eyes gentle.

"What's going on?" He asked.

She frowned, and took him by the shoulder, leading them away from the massing of people.

"It is of no importance, young one. Come – let us have a walk in the garden."

Obi-Wan frowned, finding he did not like being left out of the loop. Then again, this wasn't even his world. He nodded, allowing himself to be prodded by the seemingly over-protective woman.

"I wonder if I may also spend some time alone in the gardens Lord Khas showed me – I would like to meditate on my thoughts."

"Of course young sir. But first – breakfast!"

Obi-Wan sighed.

0ooooooooooooooooo0 

Spire came to slowly, her body pleasantly heavy against the mattress.

Not a mattress.

Blinking slowly but not moving a muscle, she found herself lain across the sofa, with her back and head supported by a snoring Ardemis. She swallowed a groan, she hadn't even remembered falling asleep. The young woman silently glowered at the man beside her. This was not the first time she'd woken like this, and she felt a twinge of embarrassment. And she also felt blessed to be cared about. Wincing at stiff muscles, the young woman turned herself slightly. To her chagrin, Ardemis murmured something illegible and tightened the arm he had on her. Spire sighed.

Eyelids falling closed, she allowed herself the wander, her mind ticking away at things of ill importance as she dozed. People, their faces blurred across her conscious, and as her cheek sank deeper into Ardemis's shoulder, one Jedi Master's face in particular stood out to her, a face she hadn't seen or thought of in many long months. Before she could fight it, she was pulled into a memory.

"Master?"

Arkken Palamin turned, and regarded his Padawan learner with a small smile, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Padawan," he said with a soft sigh, and motioned for the teenager to come forward. Karin nodded and soon stood beside him, overlooking the vast city world of Corescant. The sun was just setting and the gleaming metal was cast with a fiery orange glow that bathed their faces with warmth. Arkken placed a warm hand on his padawan's back, without taking his eyes from the scene before him.

"It's true, then."

The Jedi master sighed. Karin looked down.

"Poor Master Jinn."

Arkken nodded, thickly swallowing. "Indeed."

She looked up at him, his face lined with worry. A small hand grabbed a handful of robe in the gentlest of manners.

"You do know that you will never loose me, right master? I will be everything you make me – the strongest Jedi Sentinel this order has seen in millennia. But I will not be overcome by my pride – And you will be proud of me, master." She paused, looking to the red sky. "And I will serve the order until the day I join with the force."

Arkken felt a lump in is throat, and gave a brilliant smile to his padawan.

"And there will never be a master more proud, than I."

But her attention was else ware, her eyes narrowed to the back of the residence. Arkken then felt it as well – a brief, but intense flair of pain. Karin turned, eyes bright.

"May I go to him, master?"

Master Arkken hesitated, eyebrows drawn together. After a beat, he looked down.

"Yes, but be wary of the force, and his feelings."

The padawan bowed and swiftly exited. Her master looked after, sighing.

She stood stiffly outside of the Jinn residence, both her bare palms on the smooth metal door. She realized it was not his shields failing him, stirring the force around her, but rather the rupture of his training bond, for it was open and leaking, ripped and broken. She turned to the comlink a few feet from his door and hastily contacted the healers.

"When is Master Jinn scheduled for repair of his training bond?"

"Master Yoda himself will be up in a hour or so, after his meeting with the chancellor."

Karin frowned. She again returned to the doorframe, and hesitated requested it open. As expected, he refused.

/Master-/ she sent warily over her bond.

/Yes, Karin/

/…Can I ask a favor/

/Depends on the favor./

/Do you think I might… steal, erm, borrow the all access code for residency from you? For like, two seconds/

/…../

/… 483-21-0087./

/Thank you, Master Min'./

She entered the code quickly and swept into the pitch-black apartment. She closed her eyes, seeing the world in blue, through the eyes of the force. There, in his padawan's room…

She dropped to the floor, holding her robes close. Even slumped over, the Jedi Master towered over her. His hands were wrapped around himself, and he was deathly still. Karin could feel it now, his disappointment and guilt dripping out of him like a deep cut, oozing. His training bond was ripped apart, and the vacancy of his padawan learner had to be devastating. A whole hour? Another hour of this would be agony for the man.

"Your master send you?" He asked quietly, belaying none of his inner turmoil.

"No."

"You don't look like a healer to me."

"Master Yoda is coming soon, Qui-Gon," the seventeen year old comforted, scooting next to him, also leaning her back on the discomfort of the lower mattress of a bed that was once Xanatos's.

"He will never sleep here again," he murmured. "Now, he sleeps with whispers of power in his ears and revenge in his mind."

The big jedi shook his head. "I will never take another padawan again."

Karin stayed silent, frustrated at not knowing what to say to comfort the wounded man.

"Your being here is enough."

She gaped at him and berated herself – Qui-Gon Jinn was extremely adept at picking up on the moods of others. She wondered, then how had he endured Xanatos for so long? It was a question she could not ask, especially right now. She searched her memories blindly-

"You s-said once, that the most soothing thing in this universe is the sound of a heart beat- you said it signifies life and survival, the living force."

He frowned. "Yes…?"

She reached a shaking hand to his cheek, touching it gently. Qui-Gon could sense her nervousness as she stretched and moved her hand to his shoulder, pulling gently. He was touched that she cared so, and attempted to help him even though she feared his response. Despite his agony he did not wish her any hurt, so he went along with her.

Shocked, Karin pulled the huge weight against her, and soon she was all but flattened by the large mass. His head, soft brown hair, was cradled against her chest, his ear above her heart. Qui-Gon listened to it, the rhythmic thudding. Oh, how he wished his padawan was strong, had passed the trials… Oh, to change the past-

"It was /not/ your fault, Qui-Gon," Karin murmured, rocking gently. "I have known you, and Xanatos since my childhood here. You were the perfect master, the perfect master," she murmured, "He was blessed with you and you did more than any other could to make him the best he could be."

"Correct, she is."

Yoda stood silently in the doorframe, his short height bringing him to eye level with the two on the floor. He hobbled over to Qui-Gon, and without another word, placed a cool clawed hand on the large forehead. Karin felt him stiffen, then relax. He suddenly got a lot heavier, his head quickly becoming a huge weight on her small body.

"Rest easier, he will now. Done well to be with him, you did young padawan Karin." She nodded, both pleased and disheartened at the same time. She looked down at him, his face relaxed in sleep, his breaths slow and even…

She opened her eyes blearily, blinking the last remnants of the dream away. She winced, throat feeling raw. Ardemis slept on, never a morning person, his breathing slow and steady. A low, thready beeping noise began to chime softly somewhere to her left.

As she lifted herself from the couch, she placed her palm on his forehead, maintaining his rest. Even now, she disliked being seen like this, so private, in the morning after sleep. It was a personal thing. She prefered to do such things alone, though in this case perhaps she cared, just a bit, for the man sprawled on her couch. She stood and moved to the small communications console that continued to chime.

"Spire."

"My lord. The Scion has named an emergency moot in the grand hall. All of the Vanguard are called."

A deep flood of concern raced through Spire's body.

"Understood."

A deep groove split her brow as she frowned to herself, disappearing into her sleeproom. The door hissed shit and she quickly opened her closet and pulled out a simple tunic, hers black and tan, decorated in red. She stripped quickly, removing her Jedi gear and placed her lightsaber aside.

0oooooooooooooooooooooo0

Obi-Wan was deep in mediation. In such a state, he felt most attuned to the force.

Even here, sith knew how many parsecs away from the Jedi of his kind, the force swirled with brilliant blue light, coloring his thoughts, soothing his mind.

/Obi-Wan…/

He started, almost out of meditation.

His master! That was his master's voice. Not possible! Too far away…

/Obi-Wan…./


	11. chap 11

Heart your thoughts and reviews.

Chap 11

/Obi-Wan…/

"Sense him, do you?"

Qui-Gon remained silent, sitting cross-legged and bare-chested before the elder green Jedi Master. Yoda furrowed his brow in concentration, his mind and energy with the tall man before him.

Yoda suspected that Obi-Wan was at incredible distance, perhaps on the rim itself. Thus, he called the force to him and funneled it, sharpening it, molding it to Qui-Gon, in an attempt to reach the boy through a faltering learner bond. Yoda allowed his concentration to slip for a split second, upset that the bond had faltered at all. Yoda had sensed that there were issues between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, but such a rift – The green master was called back to attention when Qui-Gon grunted. Rivets of sweat began to drip down him, his hands twitching slightly.

Quickly, his eyes flew open.

"I felt him, master! I felt him," He whispered, "He did not fight me, and it was only but a moment –" He closed his eyes, the extremely brief touch of his padawan's mind a soothing balm to his haggard emotional state. His padawan was alive. Thank the force. As long as he could find him, get to him –

Make amends.

Yoda stood. Qui-Gon blinked as the elder master jabbed him affectionately with his gimmer stick. The small creature was about to speak when the sound of running feet echoed into the chamber.

"Masters," Mace Windu said heavily, a sheen of sweat on his brow as he jogged into the council chambers. Yoda frowned, his ears perking.

"Disturbed, you are," Yoda said, turning.

"There's a situation."

Yoda raised his head, closing his eyes… yes. A disturbance. Nearby. Faint, but readable in the swirling nature of the force. He opened his large, luminous eyes.

"The senate."

Windu nodded, struggling to catch his breath.

"Some kind of terrorists-"

"Gather the Jedi Knights at the temple, and masters. Allowed, such a thing will not be in our presence." The small master said with a touch of something dark in his voice.

Qui-Gon stood, towering over the small master. He frowned, pulling his hair away from his face.

"What do you sense, master?"

Yoda looked upwards to Jinn.

"Darkness and blood."

0ooooooooooooooooooo0

Obi-Wan rested his back against a winding pale red tree in the gardens, his mind a whirl.

He swore he felt him. For the first time in months since Kinah, and Tahl, he swore he felt his master's presence in his mind.

He wasn't quite sure what he thought about that.

Despite his time on the beautiful, sunlit world of Ghan and the proud people who inhabited it, he hadn't forgotten those last few days at the temple. The pain, knowing he wasn't good enough. The confusion of the saber tournement. The way his master held Kinah before he passed out. Each memory was like a dagger, piercing and unrelenting, reminding him that he lived still in Xanatos's shadow, and now the shadow of Kinah and Tahl.

And yet, and oh, he hated himself for it, he missed his master. More than anything, missed his calm smile, his poise, missed his lessons, missed being important…

The boy was pulled out of his musings when several figures entered the yard. Obi-Wan sensed through the force, and after a few days, he could now identify the cool, gray swirling signature as Spire, her presence both soothing and unnerving within the force. As the figures came into view, Obi-Wan saw Spire, her posture stiff, walking beside an extravagantly decorated Bareli, followed by a few men and woman Obi-Wan did not know. The party veered off to the left, out of Obi-Wan's sight.

"Something troubles you."

Obi-Wan started, swooping his face upwards. Spire stood before him, hands clasped behind her. Her posture and body language were confusing – she seemed to ask out of concern but her posture was not comforting, but tightly reigned, at attention. He supposed he had never seen her any other way.

"I felt my master in my mind," he said bluntly, gripping his knees.

Spire's expression did not change. "You are surprised? He is most likely concerned for your welfare and is searching for you."

"And why would he do that? He has other padawans to attend to."

"Has he really done that much damage?" Spire asked, still looking down, but her eyes seemed to soften just a bit. The boy said nothing. Spire inhaled deeply, tilting her head back as the sunlight bathed her face. She held herself there for a moment, then looked back to the boy.

"Come with me."

She did not offer her hand, so Obi-Wan pulled himself upwards, mimicking her and clasping his hands behind his back. She led him from the garden, into the corridors. He followed silently, behind and to the left. Spire glanced back at him.

"You are not my padawan and I am certainly not a Master. Walk beside me, Obi-Wan," she scolded. He sped up to walk beside her. She pushed a large door open, one he'd never seen and suddenly he was all but blinded by sunlight. He staggered after her, the breeze strong against his skin, ruffling his hair. As the boy's eyes adjusted, he found them outside, amidst a lavish yard. He whirled around and his jaw dropped. The building that housed the Scion was large, very large and beautiful, it stretched high into the sky. Banners with the symbols he'd seen inside were streaming in the breeze, accenting the decorations of the architecture.

"Boy!"

Obi-Wan whirled. Spire was at the edge of the lawn, standing beside some kind of vehicle. The padawan jogged to her. She opened the side of the craft, and motioned the boy inside. She joined him after he was in.

"Where are we going?"

"To meet an old friend of mine."

"Oh…"

Bright sea green eyes peered excitedly out the window. The city of Bastieel was alive, but in the same sense as Coruscant. Coruscant was a city of proud metal that towered above its inhabitants. Bastieel was more colorful, its buildings a fusion of technology and ancient carved stone. People with smiling, happy faces were speedily passed by the vehicle. Obi-Wan reached tenderly into the force and found no darkness, only light.

"It's the glory of this place," Spire said, not looking at Obi-Wan but glancing out the opposite window. "Peace and tranquillity reign here. No murders, no hatred, little greed and general good lives are led. Its something you rarely find in many of the republic's worlds."

The craft made a sharp left, the inertia pushing Obi-Wan against Spire. She glanced at him, but said nothing.

"Come."

She exited the craft, and Obi-Wan followed. A huge steel gate stood tall before them. On either side of the gate was weathered, ancient stone with foreign carvings inlayed deep and inked with a color the shade of blood.

"This place looks important."

Spire said nothing, but went up to the gates and stood before the lock. The lock seemed made of stone as well. Spire knelt to one knee, and placed her brow to the stone. A moment later, the gates began to creak open. Spire stood and turned, motioning for Obi-Wan to follow.

They entered a grassy lawn, its edges mounted with large craggy rocks. Several statues of what looked like ancient knights lined the path to the entrance way.

"Who are they?" Obi-Wan asked as they ventured into the park, or whatever it was.

"Brave knights whose lives were lived for the people of Ghan and its allied nations. Scehault Knights."

As they walked, their shadows grew longer as noontime passed. The grasses grew taller and the rocks came closer to the path.

Spire walked off the path, into the rock and grass. Obi-Wan felt a tingle of something on the edge of his force sense. There… was something here.

"Have you noticed a theme in Ghan?" Spire asked, "The star? The feline? The colors?"

"I thought it was just regal, red and gold," Obi-Wan answered, thumbing his lightsaber in tension. Oh yes. There was something here.

"Be without fear, Obi-Wan," Spire said softly. "And stay very still."

Spire knelt, settling to her knees and lowering her head, clasping her hands before her. Obi-Wan also sank to his knees, nerves trembling. He felt as if he was being watched…

His heart jumped into his throat with fear as a large, and I mean… large… feline soundlessly emerged from the tall grasses before them. His eyes flitted nervously to Spire, but she paid no heed to the approaching large cat. Obi-Wan fought the urge to scamper away as fast as his thirteen year old legs would carry him. Surely Spire knew the cat was there?

The feline's dark eyes noted Obi-Wan, but trained on Spire. The large cat came forward, his weight shifting, muscles shuddering as it moved. It came to a halt before Spire, and sat heavily on its haunches. It regarded Spire silently, who's head was still down. It cocked its head, its fur wavering lazily in the wind.

Though the force, Obi-Wan heard Spire speak –

/Good Father…/

The feline then gently butted his head into Spire's. Spire unclasped her hands, and brought one up to gently touch the creature's face. The cat then straightened, accessing the boy. Spire turned.

"Obi-Wan. This, is a Scehault lion." The cat turned, his eyes drinking in the sight of the padawan. It was unlike any cat he'd ever seen –

It was a golden tan color, with darker but not so noticeable tan stripes down its backside and shoulders. It looked like an adolescent lion, it did not have a full mane, but tuffs of a deep red fur that spanned its forehead to the middle of its spine. A unique design of red short fur lined its golden face, encircling its eyes. Another design that reminded Obi-Wan of the star of Ghan was displayed on its shoulders. It was large – standing over four feet tall and many feet in length. It looked massive, and now that Obi-Wan stared into its dark eyes, it seemed somewhat… intelligent.

"The Scehault lions are the symbol of Ghan, our honor, our nobility. They have lived on these lands longer than the alliance has been in existence. You've noticed their statues, it says they protect us from evil."

The boy nodded, still in awe of the huge beast before him.

"You… called him good father?"

Spire nodded. "When I first came here, I was distraught, just as I sensed you were earlier. Bareli brought me here to inspire courage… and I was much surprised to realize that these creatures not only have a level of intelligence, but they are force sensitive."

The padawan nodded, still on edge. The Scehault huffed.

/Young Boy Far Home/

Obi-Wan jumped, the voice a low growl in his mind. The feline blinked, cocking his head, one ear flattening.

Spire joined in the conversation, nodding.

/He travels far for our wisdom/

The lion stood, padding around them. Obi-Wan willed himself to face forward.

/He Hurts, Pain/

Spire reached out, touched Obi-Wan's shoulder. The boy inhaled, it was the first kind gesture he'd ever received from her.

/He runs from it, his father wounds him, blind/

Obi-Wan swallowed hard.

The feline was behind him and the boy could feel its hot breath on the back of his neck.

/Honor Calls Boy Home. Home Holds Cure. Blind Will See Again/

"How can he know?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly shaking with emotion. Spire squeezed her hand gently. The lion growled low.

/Scehault Knight Will Follow/

Spire dropped her hand immediately.

/Good Father… I serve you and The Code, I cannot-/

The cat stood before Spire, his eyes bright.

/Follow And Protect. Follow Code/

The lion put up a massive paw, and Obi-Wan struggled to remain still. A large, black claw emerged from its fore toe, and it touched it to the boy's brow. It felt cool on his skin. He trembled.

/He Child Of Light. So Are You Again. Protect Him As I Protected You/

Spire was not pleased, that much Obi-Wan could tell. Her calm demeanor evaporated some, but she nodded stiffly and bowed her head again, her thick brown hair falling before her eyes.

/You know I can't go back there, they won't even look at me after what I've done…/

The large cat moved forward, and rested his jaw and head past her shoulder, his soft neck against hers. A low purring emanated from the creature, and Spire sighed.

0oooooooooooooooooo0

Obi-Wan sat in silence as the craft carried he and Spire back to the capitol building. He let his head drop back against the plush of the seat, the dying light of sunset warming his face. Spire sat stiffly, arms crossed as she stared outside with a furrowed brow. The padawan sighed, recapping on the last few hours. He could practically feel the breath of the Lion on his neck. As they passed the streets of Bastieel, now he could recognize carvings, paintings, sculptures of the Scehault Lion everywhere, now that he knew what they were.

Closing his eyes, the swaying of the craft lulled the boy into a half sleep. He drifted, not really aware when suddenly,

"Augh!" Obi-Wan cried out, grabbing at his head. Spire jumped, eyes widening.

"What is it!" Spire inquired with a hint of panic in her voice, watching the boy wince in pain.

Obi-Wan didn't know, didn't know, it hurt, it was pain it was –

Not his own pain.

He didn't know what was going on, but for the second time that day, he felt the presence of his master in his mind. And this time, it was not pleasant. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.

Suddenly, a wall erupted in his mind, crude, but effective. It blocked the intolerable pain that was streaming into his mind. He struggled to consciousness, trying to fight the darkness that was descending –

He came too in the back of the craft, cradled by Spire's lap and arms.

"W.. what was that?" The boy murmured, bringing a hand to rub his head.

Spire looked down.

"I believe your training bond is not as severed as you believed it to be."

Obi-Wan eyes got large as dinner plates.

"Master! My master, something is wrong-"

"Yes, I gathered."

"I have to help him! I have to –" the boy stopped. He blinked furiously, "I – I don't know what I can think about his ignoring me, the way he treats me, but I still – I still care for him. I care a great deal."

She nodded down at him, "I understand."

"Can I go back!"

"It is your choice."

Obi-Wan paused, "W-Will you come with me?"

Silence filled the cabin of the craft. She did not respond. At that moment, the vehicle slowed, and came to a stop. Spire lifted the boy, and stepped out into the new dusk. Obi-Wan followed, wobbling somewhat from the onslaught. He paused, to try and collect his thoughts, his feelings, and turned again to Spire, but she was already at the doors and entering the building. She did not turn around to face him.

Obi-Wan looked into the new starry night sky. His master was out there somewhere, and something… was not right.


	12. chap 12

My apologies on the lack of posts for so long… its finals time and it's the time of do or die for we art majors. Heart your reviews as always.

Chap 12

Rynik was dozing, head pillowed in his arms, which were pillowed on his reports, which were on top of his computer terminal, which was not pleased at the constant input from its keypad and was getting rather upset, beeping frantically in soft tones. Like a Terak shark, Obi-Wan's head, hair first, rose on the other side of the desk, until his eyes were peering at him from over the chaos of paperwork.

"… Rynik?"

"What!" He gasped, jumping, papers flying everywhere. "Geeze, kid," the man panted, rubbing his neck. "Warn a guy!"

"I need to talk to you, Rynik," he said softly, head still half above the plane of the desk.

"Yeah, well, ok-"

"I'm going back, Rynik."

"…oh."

Obi-Wan crawled around to the other side of the desk, facing the elder man with his head bowed.

"Something… is going on. Even from here, I can feel it. I'm worried about my master." He looked at the Commandent guilty.

"Soooo… whats the problem?"

"You're not angry at me?"

"Why would I be angry at you?" He asked quizzically.

"Be-because I made you drag me all the way out here, and now I need to go back," was the soft reply.

"Obi-Wan," Rynik placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, "Remember what I told you? About running towards hope?"

The padawan nodded.

"Well, its time to run towards hope again. Only this time, its back home. Nothing wrong with that."

Rynik smiled, his eyes crinkling warmly. He grunted when the small body catapulted itself into his arms, clinging with all its might. The pilot returned the gesture, rubbing the boy's back soothingly.

"Don't worry, its ok," he soothed.

"Come with me?" Came the muffled question.

"Oh, kid, I'm so sorry-"

Watery eyes popped away from his chest, the padawan quivering.

"Obi-Wan – my place is here for now. I have to stay for a while, things are happening politically –"

Sadly, Obi-Wan sniffed, wiping his face.

"I'll miss you, Rynik."

Rynik gave a lopsided smile, ruffling the boy's hair. He frowned, then opening one of his desk drawers, and obviously not finding what he wanted, he stood and walked across the room, rummaging through a set of compartments. Obi-Wan watched with interest. Rynik's posture announced success, and he knelt before the boy.

"This," he announced, holding up a small cylindrical object, "is a Ghannen long range communications device. It works all over the galaxy, and farther. It's a long, long way from your world to ours, so a message you send will take a couple days to get to me but –" he grinned, "I'll get it. But hush! I'm not supposed to give these out."

Obi-Wan watched with wide eyes as he placed the small object into his hands, the thing surprisingly heavily. Obi-Wan held it as if it was precious, looking back to Rynik with happiness.

"Thank you so much," the boy said in a hushed voice, pocketing the treasure in his robes.

Rynik raised a palm to the boy's cheek.

"The best will come to you, Obi-Wan. Go back, and I'm sure your master will see what he's been missing. And be damn glad you're home. And with that device," he poked Obi-Wans chest, "I'll be a hop, skip, couple hundred light years away."

Obi-Wan thinned his lips, determined not to let the sting of tears show.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Bareli found Spire in the memorial gardens, a lush lawn of ancient stone and flora located on the roof of the west wing. She knelt as if in prayer, her head bowed low, her Ghan imperial robes flowing around her like ruby water. She knelt before the statue of Scehesh, an ancient and renowned Scehault warrior from many generations ago.

The elder leader stepped lightly, the memorial fires casting shadows on his face. Despite the traffic of Ghan, the night was clear, a warm breeze flowing in from the ocean. Bareli's feet crunched lightly on the gravel path, surely alerting the woman to his approach.

But she did not stand, or even acknowledge him, which was odd. He frowned and knelt beside her. The king mimicked her pose, kneeling before the legendary knight's statue.

"What brings you to Scehesh, Spire?"

Barely perceptible, Spire took a deep breath. She looked upwards reverently to the statue, eyes dim in the firelight. It was aged, its edges worn with weather and time. Firelight flickered across its broad form, casting a magical glow to she whom knelt before it.

"I am presented with a problem, my lord."

"So I gathered," Bareli chided, breaking pose and sitting rather unceremoniously on the ground, tucking his legs beneath him. He clasped his hands before him and waited patiently for the onslaught.

Spire shook her head, practically radiating how unsettled she was. She continued to stare up at the huge, aging stone as she fiddled with her robes.

"I am a Scehault Knight, like he was. I know my oath. I bide by it with honor."

"Indeed, you do."

"I serve the peoples of these worlds with my mind, heart, and life. And it is my duty to protect those who cannot or are in need."

Bareli sighed. "And that is why our people are in our current predicament, yes."

Shaking her head, Spire looked at him with a pained expression. "And thus, I cannot leave you! Nor do I have any desire whatsoever," She huffed, looking back to the ground.

"What has happened, Karin?" He asked gently, his voice soothing.

"The boy wants me to go back with him," was the monotone reply.

"…ah."

She groaned, cupping her face to her hands. "I can't /do/ that, Bareli!"

He inched closer, "And why not?"

"Why not/Why not/"

His face was serene. She shuddered.

"Firstly, it's filled with all kinds of memories that I'd prefer to forget. Secondly, if they find /out/ what happened to me after my master died, they'll probably cut me down themselves," she ranted, eyes widening with each reason, "Thirdly, our people are in the middle of a precarious affair, and I can't just /leave! Fourthly, I'm a Scehault Knight, I can't abandon my people-"

"What of the code?" Bareli asked. Spire's jaw dropped.

"What!"

"It is your duty to protect those in need. Perhaps… Obi-Wan needs you. Perhaps your Jedi Order needs you."

"No, no, noOoo," Spire moaned, dropping her brow to the ground. Bareli patted her shoulder.

"You have demonstrated your loyalty time and time again, Spire. Otherwise, you would not be a Knight of our people."

She brought her face up again, staring at him blearily. He regarded her with solemn patience.

"If you were to return to your galaxy, it is permitted. Even if you … did not return, it is … permitted."

In a moment of aggravation, Spire tipped over and flopped onto the grass.

"That is not what I want to hear," she groaned as she stared up at the night sky The stars were bright from here, being so high up on the rooftop, it seemed that you could reach out and touch them. She felt Bareli settle next to her, the two dignified officials lying on the grass, staring up at the stars.

"Tomorrow morning, I have called a ceremony for you."

"What kind of… ceremony?"

"Renewal of Vow."

Spire brought her hands to her face, pressing hard. "You want me to go. I can't believe this. You want me to go /back/ there-"

Owlish eyes peered across at the woman. "I want you to have closure."

"I don't need closure."

"Then, just go with the boy. Make sure everything is fine, and come home."

Spire shook her head back and forth, hands still on her face. "I won't abandon our people during this time. What if we go to war, Bareli?" She removed her hands, eyes solemn. "What if the outlanders don't agree to our terms? Then what? I'm halfway across the galaxy and my people, my people are going to fight-"

"And that is alright. One person will not change the course of history-"

Her brow furrowed.

"I can."

Bareli said nothing, regarding her quietly.

Spire looked back to the sky, furiously swallowing. "I can save lives. I can help our people. I can deflect bolts, I can lead our people with less death, I can negotiate, I can-"

"You can do all these things, but you won't face your past? Won't help the boy?"

"…"

Bareli gestured to the sky. "It's a miracle you are here, Karin. By all rights, you should be waving that laser sword of you back in your own galaxy, doing the exact same things there, saving lives, helping people."

"But I am here now."

"And you can always come back again."

"Why do you want me to go so badly, Bareli?"

The elder man smiled softly, closing his eyes.

"I want you to find peace that you cannot find here. Just like Obi-Wan."

"You told me my place was with Ghan," She said accusingly, grey eyes flashing in the firelight.

"It is. You will always have a place here. But… take a vacation. And come back refreshed."

Spire folded her arms behind her head and rested in silence. The lord regarded her for a moment. "He would have been proud of you, you know. Your master."

Spire closed her eyes, the breeze tugging her hair gently, the wisps tickling her face. "I'm not so sure." Her eyes opened, to look at the towering statue before them. "It told him once, that I'd never leave the order. That I'd serve the ideals of the Jedi until the day I died." She barked in sardonic laughter. "Ends up I couldn't have gone darker, couldn't have traveled farther away to what we stood for. I'm not so sure he'd be too happy about that."

"And yet, here you are, racing to defend a people, aching to bring peace."

Sitting up, the girl wrapped her hands in the loose robes she wore and allowed the tension in her face, released her aggravations into the force. A moment later, she looked to Bareli.

"Protect life. And yes, I will go with the boy. To protect his life."

0ooooooooooooooooooo0

Obi-Wan meditated, balanced on a smooth rock in the gardens. He concentrated, letting the force fill him, extended him. He tried and tried, but could not reach his master again. It was as if there were some kind of massive wall between them. One not of space, but of the force.

He opened his eyes, sighing. It was awkward to him, holding the learner bond open. Oh, this was not how he had imagined his relationship with his master to be. He'd always hoped, prayed for easy communication, trust, maybe even the love a father shows his son. But he would have no other master, no one else. Regardless of how poor their relationship was, Qui-Gon Jinn was the only one he would ever accept as his master.

As the capitol building quieted into late evening, he sat upon the rock and reflected upon his time here. Perhaps it was being away from the temple, that environment, that allowed for some sense of clarity of the situation. Obi-Wan was now determined – the cold of being alone was something that he could no longer bear. Upon his return, he would face Kinah. Tell her just what he thought of her antics. He would face Bruck, calmly, and tell him just where to go and how to get there. And his master…

Well, he'd play that by ear.

0oooooooooooooooooo0

Light came slowly to Qui-Gon. It was relative – light from a source or the light of consciousness, it was too soon to tell. All he knew was that his head as throbbing louder than a herd of bantha and he needed a drink of water to sooth his parched throat. Completely without his consent, a soft moan escaped his mouth.

"Sshhh, it's alright, Qui," a tender, familiar voice soothed. Braving the unknown, the Jedi master opened his eyes, blinking rapidly.

The blurry face of Tahl came into view, her hair draped over her face, falling down upon him. Thus, he must be lying down…

"Why is everything so… fuzzy?" He asked blearily, bringing a large hand to scrub his face, trying to clear away the cobwebs.

"Injured, we are," Yoda rasped from somewhere behind him. Qui-Gon shuddered, trying to get his bearings. His head was cradled in Tahl's lap, and he concentrated on the soothing motion of her hand in his hair. He rather wished his head would stop pounding.

Seeking comfort in the force, he reached out with his mind to gather strength to himself.

The tall man shot up, gasping – it, it was just/gone-/

"Shh, its alright," Tahl struggled to sooth, but Qui-Gon brought his hands to his face, groaning like a man in pain. He tried, tried to remember-

/ He, Adi-Gallia, and Tahl were the first three into the smoking Senate hall, the stench causing the tall master to clench his jaw. There was no power in the building – emergency lights flickered an eerie blue in the smoky haze. A hoard of Jedi masters were infiltrating the complex from multiple sides for a better chance at catching the culprits behind this atrocity.

"We need to restore power," Windu said over his com unit, his voice hoarse, most likely from the smoky air.

"The main generators are in the lower levels," Adi-Gallia chimed.

"First, power and life support we restore. Then, search survivors we do. Find the terrorists, we will."

The slew of masters crept their way slowly down the broken descending corridors of twisted metal. Qui-Gon kept a hand on the small of Tahl's back, assuring she did not fail to note the dangerous materials that poked out of the damaged building.

"How could the perpetrators have bypassed this most advanced building's security? And how do we not sense them within the force?" She mentioned to Jinn and Adi-Gallia.

They didn't answer.

Several dead republic guards lay mangled in a heap past the basement level. Qui-Gon stopped, kneeling before one. He tilted the dead man's head with two fingers.

"It is as if he choked to death," Qui-Gon murmured, frowning.

"I've reached the powergrid's entrance door, Qui-Gon. Help me activate it," Gallia inquired. Perturbed, the tall master proceeded to aid her, and within moments, their green and yellow sabers' had opened the heavy door. Simultaneously, several masters, but not all, advanced upon the damaged units that powered and controlled the systems of the Senate building.

The techy, more mechanically oriented masters began tinkering with the jutting wires and consoles. Master Chunnuk frowned.

"Master Yoda, this looked… sabotaged, but… its as if someone left it repairable."

"Most odd," Windu murmured, accessing the damage.

The next ten minutes was spent trying to get the system up again, to assure at least life support and breathable air. In that time, the rest of the Jedi Masters found their way to the chamber, and those not repairing the damage stood defensively around them.

It was Yoda, who's ears suddenly perked up, whirling in the direction where there was nothing but smoke. Yoda, whose eyes widened but not even Yoda could prepare for the shockwave of agony that rolled over his body. Qui-Gon watched as the little master fell, and didn't even have time to shout, before his world went black . /

Qui-Gon lifted his head from his cupped hands, meeting the large eyes of the tiny green master.

"No… force?" Qui-Gon blinked, remembering, and reached for his lightsaber- "No lightsaber?"

Yoda sighed, pointing a gnarled claw to the edge of Qui-Gon's vision. He looked, and found that the masters, most still not conscious, were gathered in a circle shape, and were ensnared by a large, sickly yellow force field. Small, red pulsing droids circled the radius of the cage.

"Force depressors," Tahl said softly.

"How? How did this happen?"

Yoda shook his head slowly.

"A weapon, before unseen to the Jedi. Shocking force, painful force, paralyzing force, like a grenade."

Qui-Gons voice lowered.

"A trap."

Something caught he corner of the wounded master's eyes. They turned to see a shape, dark, enshrouded in smoke, seemingly pacing beyond the force field. They watched warily as he stalked the masters, his patterns irregular.

"Did this, you have," Yoda accused, tapping his gimmer stick on the charred ground. The figure stopped pacing.

Those conscious raised their eyes to the figure. A small gasp went up through the collective as the familiar sound of a light saber igniting was heard and a bright, blood red beam of light cut through the darkness. Even without the force, a shiver crept its way up Tahl's spine.

The smoke itself seemed to part for the dark man. The ill colored light of the force field lit a man's face. Bald, scarred, with some kind of triangular tattoos running down his cheeks and jaw, down his neck, disappearing behind cloaks as dark as a starless night. Eyes the color of freezing ice. No expression.

The man stopped short of the zoning force depressing droids, a few feet from the field.

Yoda came up to the man's shins, but the little master stared defiantly up at the stranger.

"Seen you before, I have not. Not a fallen Jedi, are you."

A deep, ominous chuckle emerged from the throat of their captor.

"Why, pray tell, be a Jedi, waste half your life and fall," he asked as he touched the tip of his saber to the force field, energy sparks falling towards the small master, "When you can spend a lifetime learning a power you will never know?" he brought the saber tip violently to the shield, the crackling startling the shocked masters. A sneer carved his sharply angled, perhaps hansom if not so twisted, face.

"I am Darth Fenris."

"Oh, Sith," Chunnuk swore, choking softly.

Fenris laughed again, the sound grating and unnerving.

"Precisely."


	13. chap 13

W00t 15 page chapter! I do hope you enjoy… I read the new star wars book, ep three, and while I will not put any spoilers in here, it greatly inspired me in some areas... Thanks again for your input.   
Chap 13 

Sleep did not come easy for Obi-Wan that night. He lay in the spare room of Rynik's quarters, staring at the textured ceiling. Filled with a kind of anxiety he'd never known, the padawan squirmed slightly beneath the heavy worn quilt the Commandent had covered him with so many hours ago. Irritated, he rolled over, wishing he would be blessed with at least a few hours of sleep in a bed, as opposed to the cramped confines of a starship. The faint glow of the chrono blurred before his vision – almost dawn. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, nuzzling the pillow.

A short time later, the scuffing of footsteps resonated from beneath the closed door, and a bar of light appeared at its base. The soft undertones of male voices fuzzed in and out of his hearing. Deciding sleep wasn't an option anyway, he rose, though reluctant to leave the warmth of the sleep couch. He paused before the doorknob, listening.

"I just… wow. I can't believe you're doing that for her, Sir. That's just… I never though I'd see the day when you'd part with a SCW without a large sum of-"

"Yeah, yeah, cut it out. I'm half doing it just to see the look on their faces."

A few chuckles later, Obi-Wan opened the door.

"Hiya," Rynik greeted, his hair still damp from the fresher, his dress shirts freshly pressed as he buttoned up the last of them. The boy blinked rapidly, squinting at them from the doorframe of the dark room. The Commandent smirked, taking in the disheveled short Jedi. Wordlessly, Rynik waved towards the fresher, and the boy started in the direction. As Obi-Wan left the room, the main door sounded, a soft chime.

"Yes!" Rynik said without bothering to open the door, running a comb through his thick black hair. He threw the comb in his back pocket and stood to attention when Bareli strode quickly into his quarters.

"Be at ease, Commandent," the Scion asked, though his tone was rushed. The lord was dressed to the hilt, like some extravagant god come to visit the living. Robes of shining red silk lined in black and gold flowed over the whitest of dress shirts and darkest of black leather. Embroidered to near impossible detail, the designs of the ancient Askeni language traveled down the length of the garments, while the gothic design of the Scehault lion was bared proudly on the right breast. A belt that held a ceremonial Ghan blade hung balanced on Khas's hip, the sheath decorated in markings similar to those of the Lion. Rynik swallowed, looking down at himself.

"I feel underdressed."

"Not at all, good sir," the elder man soothed, snatching the ceremonial vest that was draped over the pilot's chair. Rynik swallowed again, extending his arms and allowing the king to dress him in the symbol of their people, the simple act of adornment causing the pilot to feel fierce pride and honor that the King was doing it himself. Finished, Bareli tugged at the bottom of the material, and stepped back.

"We represent the same honor, dressed thus or not."

"Yes, Sire."

"Good. Now, are the preparations made?"

Rynik nodded low, stance at one of attention. "Yes, my lord. I've had the Tiberious readied and flown to the southern Bastieel port base. She'll be prepped and ready for takeoff within the hour."

"Excellent," Bareli commended, "I shall see you and your young charge momentarily, then."

"Aye, Sire," Rynik bowed, and with a flash of red, the door hissed shut. He exhaled, glancing down at his dress clothing, perhaps even admiring himself when a clean padawan learner entered the main room. Sunlight, orange in the dawn, streamed into the room as Obi-Wan made his way to stand beside Rynik.

"You look… nice," the boy commented, raising and eyebrow quizzically.

"Thanks!" Rynik grinned, running his palms down the front of his outfit. "Are you ready to go? Have… everything?"

Obi-Wan nodded with a serene smile, patting his robes to indicate his belongings – his lightsaber, and the transmission device.

"Oh! I have one more thing for you, from the Scion," Rynik remarked, rummaging through his desk. "Ah!"

"Why doesn't he just give it to me himself?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning.

"Because after the ceremony… you and Spire are cleared to leave."

"…oh," the padawan whispered.

Rynik let a goofy grin cover his features, walking over to the boy, kneeling, and pulling him close.

"No worries, no worries," the pilot soothed, holding the soft ginger hair of the boy's head to his shoulder. "Besides, I won't be /that/ far away."

Obi-Wan grinned in amusement as Rynik pulled back.

"Now. Are you ready to get this show on the road?"

Obi-Wan nodded, feeling a bit underdressed himself. Then again, he was a Jedi, and this is what a Jedi wore. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Rynik pulled some last minute things into neat piles on his desk, and then motioned for the boy to follow.

As they strode into the hallway, it was chaos. People of all kinds were seemingly sprinting from one place to the next, an air of suspense heightening the boy's senses.

"What's this about?" Obi-Wan asked as he struggled to keep pace with the Pilot, the elder man weaving in and out of pockets of people with aged finesse.

"Politics, some unrest, and many of the Scehault Knights flew in for the ceremony today. General chaos, really," Rynik explained calmly while Obi-Wan tried not to be run over by the mass herd of individuals that moved against them. "Its usually not /this/ crazy." It had been perhaps an hour since sunrise, and the place was just exploding with people.

They halted outside the main audience chamber doors. Strangely, not many people lingered outside the massive wooden doorway guarded by two tall, plainly but regally dressed men. Obi-Wan blinked.

"Why do I feel like I'm about to get married?"

"Oh, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I'd be honored!"

The padawan burst into a fit of bright laughter, shared with the deep tenor of the pilots.

"Ahem," a Askeni guard murmured from his post at the door. Rynik sobered, but rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. The guard nodded, and opened the large engraved door to them.

Obi-Wan gasped as they entered – the place looked like something out of a bed time story he'd been told at the crèche' as a child. Sunlight streaming through enormous open windows that carved huge portions of the walls, banners decorated with reds and golds and whites billowed in the breeze. Everyone, hundreds in the room, were dressed formally, their elegant hair and clothing a sheen of extravagance.

Rynik walked fluidly to the front of the audience, the guards and spectators parting for him, some nodding, some smiling. Towards the alter and front of the commotion, a row of similarly dressed men and woman looked at Obi-Wan, their cool eyes examining him. He felt like a prized fish, being summed up. The padawan shoved his discomfort aside, following Rynik. They finally stopped in the front row of spectators, fortunate, for Obi-Wan was only thirteen and thus, rather short. At some unseen signal, the audience was seated in a rush of rustling cloth and air. Obi-Wan sat quickly, folding his hands loosely in his lap in a Jedi sign of attention.

Bareli Khas came forward from the wooden throne, his hands held before him in some kind of traditional manner. He addressed the audience without words, unclasping his fingers and holding his palms sideways as if embracing the whole chamber. After a moment, he turned to the line of similarly dressed people who had made Obi-Wan uncomfortable. From the line of them, a short one stood forward, her cool gray eyes sincere and calm. Without words, Spire unfastened the black clasp that held the ornate robe to her body, and let it fall to the floor revealing a sleeveless clinging back shirt. She stepped forward and strode past Obi-Wan, her back to him as she approached the Scion. From his angle, he could see that the sleeveless garment revealed a series of detailed tattoos that the shirt bared. The padawan recognized the symbols as the same shoulder design that the Scehault Lion bared upon his own. He assumed it was a mark of her knighthood on this world. She came before the king, and knelt, head bowed.

"Knight Enspire."

"My lord," her voice floated faintly from her bowed head.

"You are charged with the following-" Khas boomed loudly, withdrawing his sword and placing the shining metal upon her shoulder, the blade inches from her tattoos.

"A Scehault Knight is a guardian of life.

A Scehault Knight knows no fear.

A Scehault Knight trusts in the good of heart

For it is in the hearts of men that our future lies.

A Scehault Knight honors thy Scion and King

A Scehault Knight knows only sacrifice

For they know the one truth that binds us all –

The holy virtue, the holy valor

The holy truth

That all life is precious – a gift."

Spire raised her head, eyes solemn as she stared up into Bareli's own.

"Protect Life, Knight. Wherever it may be, However it ails you: Wherever it takes you, however far away-"

Spire answered-

"I give my oath – to protect life and the people of Askeni, the people of Ghan, and all whose hearts are capable of such valor."

Bareli took a step back.

"Then rise, Knight, and take your place."

The audience, from dead silence, turned to uproar, applause rumbling the seat Obi-Wan sat in.

Spire stood and faced them, a small smile on her features. Bareli lay a hand upon the back of her neck and waved the audience to silence again.

"Our Knight Spire travels far today, to a world vastly unlike our own," he announced, waving at an aid to his left. The small girl brought a decorated box to the Scion, who moved to stand beside Spire. "This is my gift to you."

He opened the box to her. Obi-Wan squirmed from his seat, trying to see what was inside. The expression on Spire's face registered a shock. With slow movement, she reached inside and withdrew a metallic object.

Spire looked at the mask in her hands, its smooth edges cool upon her skin. It was a washed gold color, in the shape of a feline. The painted markings around the eyes denoted its nationality immediately – the mask was that of the Scehault lion.

"It is a breather mask, for practical purposes," Bareli murmured for Spire's ears only. "In case of… anything. But more so – it is in case you choose to hide your identity. You do not have to come back to us, Spire. But you do not have to stay with them, either." He trailed an aging finger on the markings above the eyes. "It is so you may fight as a something other that what you were – so that as you fight, you remember what you have become."

Spire's hand quivered, a wetness she had not known in many years burning her eyes.

"It is… beautiful, sire. … Thank you," she breathed, the enormity of the gift and its meaning surely causing the sudden lump in her throat. She inhaled sharply and turned to the audience, holding the gift up. Another roar of applause was sounded.

"And also, my last gift to you and the young Obi-Wan Kenobi," Bareli announced, snatching a datapad from the girl as well, "Is this."

Spire took the data pad, confused. "What is it?"

"Registration and access code to the Askeni ship, the Tiberious."

Spire's jaw half dropped, eye brows following.

"You're not serious my lord! There are only four SCW ships that are tested and in working order! I can't possibly-"

"Yes, you can. Its an order."

Chuckles emanated from the audience at the bantering. Obi-Wan frowned, confused. "What's a SCW?" He asked, leaning over to Rynik.

"Self Contained Wormhole. New Astrotech from the Mavalari people. Really neat stuff, it essentially eliminates the need for Port Cullis Gates since it kinda… reverses polar relativity in the sector, re-char-"

"Rynik, my heads going to explode," Obi-Wan pleaded.

"It goes really. Really. Fast."

"Oh…"

Applause shook the two from their own bantering, and shortly after, the audience stood. Obi-Wan found Spire beside him, shrugging of the rest of her robes to reveal the same outfit he'd first seen her in, the black red and gold armor that half reminded the padawan of the old republic armor he'd seen in old holotexts. She spoke hurridly as she pulled her tunics on.

"Are you ready to go, padawan? The Tiberious is prepped and ready. Really, Commandent Draum, I was shocked you'd let one of your precious birds go."

Rynik smiled softly, crossing his arms.

"I know you'll take good care of her, Spire. The Tiberious, and Obi-Wan."

Spire eyed the two, and nodded. "I give my word to protect them. Come, Obi-Wan. Its time."

Obi-Wan swallowed, looking back at Bareli. The Elder man just smiled, nodding his farewell. The boy nodded back. He turned again, to regard Rynik. Obi-Wan stood defiantly, determined not to cry or show his sadness.

Rynik just shook his head, smiling.

"No worries Obi-Wan. I'll never be… too far away."

The boy mustered a smile. "Goodbye, Rynik."

Those warm brown eyes, so different than those of his master, had somehow warmed the cold that had taken his heart – And Obi-Wan was forever grateful.

"Boy!"

And that was it then – two minutes later he was hurrying with Spire down a dizzying set of corridors, and onto a lift, and more tunnels, then more lifts…

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan asked, completely disoriented.

"The Tiberious is a very powerful ship, and ships like that, we only allow to dock to our secure port, its farther away than the one you arrived in," Spire explained patiently as the lift descended. "And, it's also underground."

The lift doors swooshed open to reveal a large hanger bay door.

"And that, is the Tiberious."

Obi-Wan was always fascinated by ships, though not to a level where it was troublesome to his master. But this ship made his eyes go wide in wonder.

It was actually smaller than the Alastor, but its sleek and slim design only intensified its beauty, the metal a deep black color with hints of cobalt. It had a fin, like a shark, at its top though not too tall, its gentle slope ending at its midhull. Two thin wings extended in a curved "c" shape. The vessel was all curves, with a massive engine located in the rear.

Spire strode purposefully towards the craft, stopping briefly to speak with some of the techs who were scurrying around the ship like ants.

The entrance to the Tiberious was open, so Obi-Wan scurried aboard, touching the sides of the ship as he entered the narrow corridor that led to the cockpit area, the smooth of the metal tingling on his fingertips. The cockpit was outfitted with two leather chairs, close together, each with a console that faced the forward view. Obi-Wan sat and examined the navigational console eagerly. He did not recognize the controls however – there seemed to be no apparently way to control the ship.

A few minutes later, Spire joined him in the adjoining seat, now clad in the armor/robe hybrid that he had seen her fight the Sith in. Rubbing her hands together almost eagerly, she pushed a blue button on the console

Well, that explains why I couldn't figure out the navigations, Obi-Wan thought as a flat blue hologram popped up in front of them. Spire tapped at it, setting coordinates.

The ship began to rumble, and the ceiling of the hangar door ripped in half to reveal the bright sunlight.

"Tiberious, you have a go. Good luck."

"Copy," Spire murmured, still tapping at the holo-map. The ships core engines came online, the whole craft buzzing with energy. It rose into the air seemingly without effort. Obi-Wan stared hard outside, the city of Bastieel, and the towering architecture of the capitol building. He never got to say goodbye to Bareli…

"No worries, Obi-Wan," Spire intoned, though her attentions were still on inputting data.

"Do you know Rynik that well? He says that a lot."

She shrugged. "I've worked with him on numerous occasions. He's a good man."

Within mere moments, the ship was already zooming through the atmosphere and out into space.

"Hold on."

And suddenly, the stars exploded.

Blinding white light bathed the craft and everything within its view window. Obi-Wan squinted fiercely, and felt the craft's inertia throw him deeply into the seat. He felt… as if he was going to break, a sudden discomfort filling his senses. Then, a moment later, it was over. Light, multicolor of light, surrounded the ship and seemed to ink past them at either a very slow speed or an incredibly fast speed. It was rather pretty to look at.

"How long will it take until we're home?"

She stiffened, but caught herself, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

"About six hours."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. "That's… amazing."

"Indeed."

The boy fiddled with robes, trying to formulate a plan. He didn't want to sit in silence for six hours… he wanted to talk to her, really really wanted to. But he didn't want to tick her off either…

"Can I speak with you about some… things?"

Swallowing, Spire sighed softly, siting back into the chair. "I expected we would, padawan," she said with an air of defeat, crossing her legs. "What do you want to know?"

Obi-Wan pondered this for a few moments, resting his hands comfortably on his lap.

"You don't have to tell me, but I'd like to know… about what made you leave the order."

/The question./ Spire swallowed thickly, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"It's a long story, padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded sincerely.

"We have a lot of time."

She sighed softly, gazing without seeing at the bulkhead she rested her feet on.

"This whole nightmare… started over five years ago. With your master, actually."

The boy frowned. "Really?"

Spire nodded, looking stiff and uncomfortable.

"I was seventeen when his previous apprentice, Xanatos, chose the darker path of the force. Qui-Gon, though ever the diplomat and serene Jedi master, was in emotional uproar. It hurt him deeply – it hurts any master to loose their padawan," she said, eyeing Obi-Wan skeptically, "And it was totally understandable. My master, Arkken Palamin, took him with us on a few missions. I got to know him a lot better during that time."

"What was he like?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Uh, he was an excellent diplomat, even better than my master. But he had a wall up, it was hard to get in for a while."

The boy's gaze fell downward. "I know what that's like."

"Indeed. We'll see to it he doesn't do that again," Spire promised.

"Anyway, go on!"

She nodded, rubbing her fingers on the edge of the padded seat.

"Um… right. So, everything was great. When I was younger, I began to take interest in the Narguto Saber form, from the days of the Old Republic. The form of the double-sided lightsaber. Pity, because none of today's Knights or Masters use that form. I don't know what compelled me to do what I did… but I knew that I wanted to be a Narguto master. From the first time I read about it. The perfect balance of defense and offence, a balance of light and dark… I knew I wanted it.

"My master completely supported me, even though Master Yoda said "it was a useless to learn a saber form that no one has used in two thousand years". Whatever," she said, shaking her head, "But I did it anyway. I learned right from the ancient texts, and then in away my master and I both learned. He helped me find the qualities that Narguto offered."

"But, you were one of the best duelists…" the padawan asked, confused.

"Indeed. Narguto is the light side form of an ancient form, Narsenchi. Narsenchi was the first form, from before the time of light and dark, when sith and jedi were the same. The sith continue to use the Narsenchi form, though the Jedi, even Yoda, has no clue-"

"How do you know?"

She froze, then scowled.

"I've dealt with them before."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, a feeling of cold coming over him out of the blue. He shrugged it off, and asked her to continue her story.

"Yes. Anyway. At the peak of my "padawan" career, I was a renowned duelist because once properly trained in Narguto, you're basically twice as deadly as someone your level with a single blade," a rare grin took her features, "and man, I owned in the saber tourney. Oh yes." The boy laughed, taking her by surprise with his mellow chuckles. She relaxed a bit.

"And then… we were called to a special mission, my master and I. Qui-Gon also accompanied. We were to investigate Jaongar II and its mysterious accumulation of its vast wealth."

Obi-Wan swallowed, vaguely remember reading about this in his datapad.

"Jaongar II was a world inhabited by the species called the Ondari's. Jinn, my master and I began to investigate, under cover as trade federation representatives… only to find that they were in civil war, a secret civil war. Half of them were humanoid, like us… and the other half had developed a kind of telepathic power. The normal humanoids felt threatened, and tried to exterminate the others…

"We got sucked into this ordeal. My master wanted me off world immediately, while Jinn argued that I would be useful. My master said no, that my mental shielding wasn't yet capable of sustaining our identities for long… and then, it was just chaos." She stopped, a deep frown settling over her demeanor. She was silent for many long minutes before continuing.

"The outskirts of the capitol city was attacked while Jinn and I were separated from Arkken. He had been talking with the underground of the humanoids, the ones who believed genocide was wrong, while Jinn and I had been acquiring data. Then, I felt it through the bond, terror… my master was in trouble.

"And it was just a nightmare, I couldn't… get to him. Guards attacked us, and then there were force fields in the way… it was like… I, I don't know. Jinn was leading us to where my master was, but it was like a catacomb, a maze… if only I'd been faster…

"And then I felt it."

"Felt what?"

Her eyes were tinged with agony, jaw clenched.

"I felt him die."

Obi-Wan shuddered. It was every Padawan's worst nightmare, to feel the death of their master through the bond. The absence of life, a chilling cold… he shuddered.

"And then… the rest is a blur," Spire said in monotone, staring at the blurring universe outside. "Jinn got me home to the temple, though I don't remember much of it. There was a quick funeral, someone about having to keep it quiet… and then… I just couldn't take it. I was weak, or something, I don't know. But I couldn't stand being in that temple, where I was once so strong, and knowing that I wasn't strong enough to save him. I ran."

"Spire… that's not true!" Obi-Wan protested, "I've read about you, you were the brightest, strongest… force, if Master Qui-Gon couldn't get to him…"

She shrugged.

A decade of silence seemed to pass before he spoke again.

"What happened then?"

She shrugged again, rubbing her fingertips almost violently on her biceps.

"I fell in with the wrong crowd. And then I decided that it wasn't helping me any, so I ran away from them too… for a long time, I was hunted by a lot of people for my blade talents. Eventually, I just couldn't do it anymore. Exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically, I was on some… planet, force if I know. Some big diplomatic thing was going on when I managed to half-hazardly land the stolen ship I was on, and I got out, ran into about fifty guards, ran again… trouble seems to follow me, I guess. A big assassination attempt was underway… the assassin guys happened to see me and my illegal park job, asked me to help.. I figured sure, credits are nice to have so I can eat. But… I couldn't do it. Ended up saving the diplomat's lives. Happened to catch the attention of a old fogy named Ardemis… and the rest is history."

She just laughed without humor, and shook her head.

"I think its noble, what you did."

"Oh, thanks," she said with a drawl, rocking her feet on the bulkhead. "Its in the past. Bareli is right. What I am now… is not who I was. Things will never be as they were in the past."

"And I think you're more than worthy to go to the Jedi Council and tell then what you've become…"

"I don't think so, Obi-Wan. I understand why you want that, because they're your family… but …"

"But they're no longer yours."

She nodded. "I… don't think I could ever be a Jedi again. I can't live like them… and constantly be reminded of him."

"What do you mean?"

"The Jedi, at least the modern Jedi, do not allow for the greatest of strengths, Obi-Wan. Even Yoda doesn't realize… do you know what's kept me from the darkside? What keeps you?"

The boy pondered this.

"I care for my friends, and my master."

"Yes."

"I don't understand-"

"There is no emotion… but oh there is. Anger, loss, fear, are all paths to the darkside, so the Jedi mantra tells us not to feel. But the feelings of love, compassion... those are the greatest strengths of all. Through love, you /can/ feel anger and loss and fear… I feel anger every day at myself for not saving him. I feel his loss every day, I feel fear that I will never see him again, even when I become one with the force, that I'm not worthy… but it is my love for him, even now… it won't let me fall. I've tried, oh I've tried… the dark is tempting, Obi-Wan…"

"And that's why you're taking me home," The boy concluded, nodding.

"I want you to be with the one you care for, Obi-Wan. And I know he cares, loves you too… or he would not have taken you as a padawan. Be safe with him, instead of being out here… the sith are here, Obi-Wan. And not the sith of two thousand years ago, either. Regardless what the Jedi Council thinks… and its dangerous. They're hunting you, but they can't have you as long as you, padawan and master are together."

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

By the time that the Tiberious was back into republic space, Obi-Wan felt strangely at ease with the ex-jedi. The Tiberious stormed towards his homeworld, and Obi-Wan found himself feeling anxious, but not from Spire.

"I can't feel him, Spire…"

"Hhmmm?" She responded half heartedly, inputting data to find adequate and secret landing once they made it to the Jedi Temple.

"I can't feel my master."

"At least you're trying. I assume… never mind."

"That he's not? I think he is… was… for the first time in a long time," the boy said softly, gripping his chair as the ship rapidly dropped out of whatever ungodly speed they had been traveling.

"We'll see when we get there," Spire murmured, flicking through different subspace channels. "… oh force-"

"What is it?"

She grimaced, holding a bud up to her ear, listening.

"Mass terrorist act on the senate building."

"Force!"

"Yea. I'm assuming that's where your and the other masters are… lets head there first."

"Let's…? You're coming? I thought you didn't want them to know…"

Spire stood, letting the ship pilot itself, cloaked, to a hidden spot on Coresaunt's lower floor. She knelt, reaching for her belongings. "The one thing, my weakness back then… was my shielding. Well.. I met some people during my time away from the Jedi, and they taught me all there is to know about mental and force signature shielding. Techniques the Jedi don't even know of," she explained, pulling out the precious mask that her king had bestowed upon her, "And this time… they won't know its me. Not unless I want them to know."

She slid it on, its pale metal surface glinting softly in the night light as the ship descended upon the planet. She padded her forefinger against a hidden latch, and the mechanism latched itself securely behind her ears, the eyes of the mask glowing a faint yellow.

"For now, to them, I am a mystery," her distorted voice commanded. She looked like some hybrid of man and animal, her mask the fierce shape of the lion she so adored. She turned to exit the cockpit, but paused.

"Let me tell you a brief story, before we go," she breathed, "There is a legend amongst both sith and jedi alike – that the greatest of force users can return to this world after joining with the force – either as themselves, or in the shape of a great feline."

She stopped, and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Obi-Wan sputtered, following hastily, leaning heavily on the sidewall as the ship descended sharply.

The ship docked against an old, run down office building, one near the senate undergrounds. Spire jumped fluidly with the grace of the Ataro lightsaber style, much like his master and Yoda, but he knew better. Obi-Wan was also trained in Ataro, but over the past few months of his own training, was becoming adept at Shii-Cho as well…

As he followed the liquid form of the cat into the Senate underground chambers, Obi-Wan hoped he wouldn't have to use his newly acquired skills. But then, Spire stopped suddenly, raising her head as if the Lion of her mask was smelling the wind for its prey. She turned, regarding Obi-Wan and lifted her lightsaber, gripping it tightly.

He swallowed, and did the same.

The building was in ruins, pieces of destroyed metal poking every which way and dangerously obstructing their path. Spire whirled around, facing him.

"Obi-Wan," she rasped through the mask, "Can you sense them?"

He reached into the force… and felt… not something, but the absence of something.

"Yes," she agreed, "Something is wrong. They are… under force suppression or something. And I also sense something… darker." She turned glancing behind them.

"Ok. Here is the plan. Go in first, to that chamber on the left… and see what's going on. If he tries anything… you just get the masters, I'll deal with him."

"Wait," the boy said, grabbing her arm, "What him? Who him?"

She patted his head. "Just an old master of mine."

And with that, she was gone.

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, gripping his saber as if it was his salvation. He padded softly through the wreckage, into the room that she'd told him to go…

0ooooooooooooooooooooooo0

/ http/ - preview of whats to come….


	14. chap 14

I LOVE this chapter. Chap 14 

There was no emotion.

There was no fear.

Then what, he wondered, was that horrible cold feeling racing through his nerves? Terror. At what he saw.

Obi-Wan tried to flatten himself into the darkness that tinged the edges of the room he strayed into, praying that he would remain unseen. For the sight before him was… terrible.

A putrid yellow force field had caged his master. His master… oh, his master. Had it been so long? Obi-Wan, despite the circumstances, felt like he was seeing his master for the first time again – awed by the tall figure, the intelligence behind those eyes. Though, at the moment, his master looked… completely fatigued. In pain. Not at all pleased. Well, that made sense, being locked up…

And force suppressed! Obi-Wan realized with shock. The void in the force… was right there. A dozen of the most powerful Jedi in the universe, captured by a single man… something was not right with this. Something was not in balance. He frowned a dozen thoughts going through his head at once. He crept forward, low to the ground, his short padawan braid's padding against his shoulder the only sound of his approach.

Surely, the masters would have sensed him, had they not been under suppression. He approached from behind, eyes skittering in the darkness, seeing the one who had imprisoned them. He didn't have long to wait.

"Padawan Kenobi, at last."

That deep baritone of a voice spurred a chill up the boy's spine. He spun, seeking the owner, but all he could see was darkness. The masters all turned, their eyes on the boy. Obi-Wan so urged to ignite his saber, but Spire told him to hold off… he clung to it anyway, trying for the moment to avoid eye contact with his master, if only to avoid distraction.

The creature who called is name reeked of the dark side, the same chilling cold that he had first sensed within Spire when she battled his attacked on Ghan. It was a terrifying thing, a smoke of frozen force, curling off of the dark man. He appeared to Obi-Wan from the otherside of the force field, a sheen of yellow making him appear like some sick ghoul.

"I've been waiting for you, boy," the man announced, his deep voice like silk, pacing before him through the force field. The man was tall, broad shouldered, his black hair pulled back. His stance told of confidence.

"I won't let you hurt them," Obi-Wan said softly, but defiantly, his words sounding a heck of a lot more confident that he felt.

A deep, disconcerting laugh bore from the man's throat, a beam of red light piercing the darkness, it's light appearing orange through the field. His face twisted into a sick grin.

"You and what army?"

"I should suffice."

Obi-Wan felt a surge of relief from the sound of that mechanical voice. The sith spun, turning to face Spire as she advanced on him from the opposite side. The man's step faltered for a moment. In that time, Obi-Wan swore he heard the woman's voice through the force –

/Dismantle the force suppressors, Obi-Wan/

"Why!" The man shouted, seeming to be genuinely shocked. He spun his lightsaber, the blur of red spurring Obi-Wan to action. Drawing the force around him like a blanket, he examined the first force-suppressing droid, trying to figure out its mechanics before going at it. In the background, he heard –

"What. A truly. Mag/nificent/ surprise!"

Spire did not seem enthused as she drew closer, head down, the eyes of the Lion piercing in their unnatural glow. Fenris grinned wider.

"Dear, dear old girl, it does warm my ancient heart to see you. Look! Jedi masters, look who we have a' visiting! None other than my dear old apprentice!"

Obi-Wan almost dropped his lightsaber. Apprentice!

Spire ignited one, then both sides of her lightsaber, holding it off to the side in a deceptive show of non-defense. She moved a wide angle, soon standing in-between the Sith lord and the forcefield. She said nothing, stalking Fenris.

"Oh, tut tut my dear. Four years, and you have nothing to say to your old master?"

The jedi masters watched in silence, though Obi-Wan was sure he felt one particular master's eyes on him as he began to fiddle with the first droid.

The dark lord, now facing all, lowered his voice to a growl, bringing his saber to light his face.

"I've longed for this moment, child. I've never had an apprentice tell me… I was not… good enough for them."

Spire shrugged as if it meant nothing.

"You never were. It just took me a while to see through your lies."

Fenris hissed, advancing upon Spire, backing her closer to the field.

"Your over confidence will be your undoing, fool," he hissed, baring his teeth and moving into an aggressive stance.

Spire raised her head defiantly, the muzzle of her mask hissing air.

"No. Your lack of skill and technique will be yours."

Obi-Wan was too involved with the separating of main drives and memory core to watch the beginning of the duel, but the sound of two lightsabers meeting in a sizzle of force was enough to tell him to hurry it up.

Spire called the force to her, all of it, light, dark, pink and purple for all she cared. It became a tool, a skill, a memory, something to be tamed. The heat of a saber battle had always been her element, though she was sorely out of practice from those days. Her old master was as skilled as any sith, using the ninth style of ancient saber training. It was particularly daunting because it used the dark as a current, a flow, smooth attacks of offence with little defense. Highly irritating, and difficult to get around. Ataro form was best for this – to flip to the advisory's backside threw the sith off. Narguto was not enough in this case, thus, Spire combined the two styles with flawless seams. Fenris growled in increasing concern that his offence wasn't connecting…

Obi-Wan moaned in disappointment when he was unable to get the droid offline –

"Worry not about the device, Padawan, cut it down, you must!" Yoda encouraged from the field, while the other masters stared in awe and the epic duel before them. The rouge Sith and the Sith lord battled at speeds that made the great Mace Windu's jaw drop and tremble. Qui-Gon tried desperately to split his attention between the battle and the beautiful, beautiful face of his padawan, so close to him…

Agreeing, Obi-Wan activated his saber, and started to cut the droids down. As he expected, several of them retaliated, and began to fire small plasma bursts at him. He deflected, though it slowed his progress.

Mere feet before the encirclement of Jedi masters, red and gold saber locked, the two combatants faces inches away.

"I can fulfil my promise to you, my raven," Fenris cooed, heaving breaths taking the edge off his words.

Spire shoved him away, striking again.

"None of you bloody – " /Swipe/ "arrogant-" /swish/ "stupid people will just understand!" She spun like some divine god, a perfect arc above the sith, landing behind him. He turned, blade up to take the battering blow she delivered.

"I will NOT be a sith," She spat, driving him backwards, towards the force field, "I will NOT be a Jedi," harder, faster, "you will NOT bind me again!"

And then, just as Obi-Wan defeated the last driod, all Jedi felt it – a great surge of the darkside. Like tides, great black tides, it came, but not from the Sith. No… from the rouge. Fenris sputtered, the dark energy flowing from Spire like a cannon. Then, the light joined it. The masters gasped, for through the force it was a great gray wind, a hurricane of the force, it ripped from the rouge's mind and body, perhaps spirit, and blasted the Sith into the forcefield.

Fenris screamed in pain, the electrical current of the force field tearing through his body. His lightsaber deactivated and dropped to the floor with a clang, forgotten.

Obi-Wan watched in horror at the sheer malice of the act, and he looked to Spire, pleading with his eyes, please-

The sith howled, unable to move his quaking limbs from the field. He screamed-"Only I can give you it, Spire! AaaahhhhhOnly I can make you forget himmmmereearrgggg!"

She shook her head, the movement almost imperceptible, and with a flash of light – she cut him apart. His body hit the ground in a sickening splat of charred flesh and smoke. The luminous eyes of the lion regarded Obi-Wan with stoic indifference. He felt… frozen.

"All this… for me?" he choked quietly.

She nodded, damp hair falling before the robotic eyes.

"They like nothing more than taking a child of light and distorting it to the dark."

She knelt, pulling a device from the corpse's waist.

"But you have nothing to fear, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

She pressed a button, and the field deactivated. For the first time since the fight, the boy allowed himself to look into that circle, to see his family of Jedi, to look at their drawn faces to see… those eyes, those cerulean eyes, so deep, so moist -

And a word –

"Padawan…"

That word, said by that man, meant the world to him. Obi-Wan felt himself swallow, felt his feet move without his accord. He stopped a few feet before the Master.

Qui-Gon Jinn, a towering man, fell to his knees, hands outward.

"My… my padawan… please… forgive me…"

The master looked at his hands.

"How could I ever have forgotten you, ever misplaced you… I am... unworthy of you," he gasped, shaking his head in disbelief, "You are my greatest pride, the one who showed me that there is light left in this world, that I can trust again…" Qui-Gon lifted his head, bearing his tears to the boy and the Jedi.

"You, are my life Obi-Wan. Not Tahl, or any other will distract me from you again. I swear it. No one else is worthy, for your light, your… your spirit…"

He wiped his face shakily, the venerable master a mess before his padawan. Yoda smiled softly beside him, eyes narrowing in apparent approval.

Obi-Wan drew breath, and closed his eyes. And… opened himself, his mind, to his master. Qui-Gon gasped, blinking furiously as the feel of him, the untainted light of the boy, filling his mind for the first time, truly, in months. Force… how had he lived without this?

Obi-Wan waited tensely, eyes still closed not because he had to, but because he couldn't bear to see the rejection that might still cross his master's face.

He honestly hadn't been expecting the flood of emotion that bombarded him through the newly-reopened training bond.

/despair at his loss, love, humble, idiot for loosing, anger at Kinah, anger at self, want to fix, want to hold-/

Obi-Wan gasped, nose suddenly pressed deep into the most sacred of places, tears he hadn't realized were falling soaking into the umber brown of the robes, that smell, the smell of safety and protected, the arms so long and strong around him-

"My Obi, my Obi-," Qui-Gon rumbled, the deep voice reverberating through his chest, and it was bliss. Pure bliss… Obi-Wan settled, no, clung to the warmth of his master, a warmth so missed, so revered.

It was his anchor to the light, his defense, his hope, his… everything. His teachings from this man, his life with his man-

It was everything that mattered.

Thousands of light years, months of pain, days of solitude, it took all this, all this time for a master and a padawan to realize that this bond – it was what mattered.

Through the din of twitching broken machinery and hissing smoke, Obi-Wan vaguely felt the pressure of other Master's hands on his back, soothing touches through the force, heard their murmurs of joy for his return.

He was home.

The steady heart beat of the Qui-Gon was the most… soothing sound he'd ever heard, the cocoon so perfect, so safe -

Wait –

He lifted his head blearily from his masters embrace, eyes surely red and swollen from tears. He met his masters eyes, and it was so, so hard to tear away-

"Wait!"

Obi-Wan stood feebly, wobbling from the spent emotion. He really didn't care what he looked like, but tumbled out of the entanglement of masters, running, braid flying-

Until he had his arms wrapped securely around a stunned Spire. She was frozen under his touch, surely unwelcome but force damn it, he didn't care. Even now, he could hear the hammering of her heart through the breastplate of her armor, and he could feel the sweat and heat emanating from her body. Obi-Wan gripped her arms tightly, looking up at her with huge eyes, shaking his head.

"You saved me."

The mask regarded him coolly, save for a slight tilt of her head.

"You brought me home."

A raspy chuckle.

"Yes. I suppose so."

The boy frowned, prodding her through the force. Apparently, her attention was riveted on the masters, though you couldn't tell from the expressionless mask.

"Yes," he breathed. "Let them see you, Spire."

If physically possible, she stiffened even more.

That smooth accent, those incredible eyes… the beauty of Obi-Wan Kenobi was his simple purity of intention. And thus, he reached and lay a small palm on the reverberating metal of the Scehault mask.

"They deserve to see who saved them. You deserve to show them who you are."

Her gloved hand gripped his wrist tightly.

"You don't understand-"

"Please, let me. Let me show them who brought me home."

Without further conversation, Obi-Wan brought his hands to the back of her ears, disarming and unlatching her prized possession. She didn't move, as if frozen. It clung to her for a moment before a woosh of air raced to her face. Her eyes, her real, grey green eyes did not move from his face, her expression frozen between horror and shock.

The gasp of the Jedi was enough for her to close her eyes.

/DAMN it, boy…/

Obi-Wan spun, cradling the mask to his chest…

"This is Karin Enspire," he announced as if he were showing his greatest achievement. "Regardless of what you think about her, she had saved my life more than once, risked everything to take me here, and has killed more than one sith in her time."

Those eyes of hers were scathing, piercing him, but he continued, starting into their depths.

"You should give her your honor. She is more of a Jedi than anyone I have /ever/ met."

Her eyes softened, and became perhaps, just a tad bit moist.

Obi-Wan turned back to his audience, the crackling of broken light fixtures, the din of destruction surrounding them. His master… his master had a look unlike anything he'd ever seen. Actually… most of the Jedi looked about stunned as if staring a herd of oncoming Bantha. Even Yoda looked as if in deep shock.

He turned back to Spire, confused. Her eyes had not moved to the masters, but were locked on Obi-Wan. She shook her head slowly from side to side, a small smile gracing her features.

And softly, so only he could hear –

"Thank you, Obi-Wan."

And she took a step back.

"No!"

He tightened his grip eyes pleading.

"Please, please PLEASE don't go back, please stay…"

Still staring at him, her smile widened and eyes softened. She knelt before him, taking one of his hands in her own.

"Obi-Wan…" She shook her head, sparks from the damaged building falling behind her, "my people… we will soon go to war. A world is in need of rescue from oppression – they are innocents. They must be saved. And I will lead the Knights and armies to save them. I cannot stay."

Tears, endless they seemed, welled again in the young padawan's eyes. He clung to her again, arms enwrapping her shoulders.

"I'll miss you, even if you're stubborn and don't like me."

She barked laughter, eyes tightly shut. After a moment, he… let her go. Handed her mask back to her. She took it gratefully, prepared to put it back on-

"Padawan Karin," Yoda's voice rose about the clatter of the wreckage. Obi-Wan stiffened, feeling the sudden pull of darkness around her. For the first time, she brought her eyes to the Jedi masters, regarding them coldly.

Yoda stepped forward, hobbling over the rubble with his gimmer stick.

"Much to discuss, we have."

"No."

The word formed ice around Obi-Wan's heart.

Qui-Gon rose, eyes pleading and wide, an un-Jinnly desperation tinting his voice.

"We /have/ to talk, Karin-"

"No!"

She bared her teeth, anger touching her eyes.

"After what you did, hounding me, chasing me on Nar Shadda, like I was some run-away prize?" She hissed. "Do you realize? Ordering the guards to shoot me full of tranqs so you could "talk" to me, while you, in your never ending wisdom couldn't /fathom/ the idea that you weren't the only ones chasing, always chasing-"

Obi-Wan grabbed her hand, trying to break the flow of anger and dark that emanated from her being.

"The force-forsaken /Sith/ were there too. Almost found me, almost killed me, no thanks to you." She breathed deeply, squeezing Obi-Wan's hand before reopening her eyes to regard the Masters.

"I mean what I said. I will never be Jedi. I will never exist with Jedi. I am leaving. The Jedi. Forever."

A final hand squeeze, and she turned her back on them all.

"Karin!" Yoda bellowed, raising and hand to him. Obi-Wan felt the sharp sting of a force suggestion, the suggestion of sleep, fly past him towards her.

"Wait!" he shouted feebly, the strength of it nearly toppling him over.

She turned, and Qui-Gon gasped in sudden horror.

A wave, like the one she'd expelled on the Sith, crashed towards them, and incredible speed. Windu groaned, leaning heavily to his left, into Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon gripped him tightly, forcing his eyes shut at the intensity of the force storm that wracked against their re-sensitized midichlorians.

When they opened their eyes, Obi-Wan was on the ground and Karin Enspire had evaded them once again.

Qui-Gon groaned, but forced his shaking legs to their posts, and stumbled weakly to his padawan.

Obi-Wan was cheek down in the dirt, moaning softly. Qui-Gon tumbled beside him, scooping the boy up and into his arms. Obi-Wan, only half conscious, rested his head gratefully on the master's broad shoulder. His master curled around him, rocking gently, murmuring incoherently, thanking the force. Obi-Wan blinked slowly, letting his mouth fall open in exhaustion.

/Obi-Wan…/

He opened his eyes again, to find himself being carried out of the compound.

/Spire…/

The swaying of his legs, the movement of walking was soothing, so soothing to be cared for…

/You will be a great and wise Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan…/

He whimpered, and his master held him tighter.

/You hate the Jedi…./

/No… I hate what happened to me. But I do not hate them. And I do not hate you./

He felt the inertia of a ship taking off. His eyes slid closed again, the cadence of his master's heart so safe, so safe…

/You will save them, Obi-Wan. And… you were right. Maybe I like you… a small, tiny, minuscule…/

Obi-Wan fell into slumber with a small smile on his face.

0oooooooooooooooooooooooo0

When he woke, it was night time, and it was raining.

It was a slow thing, like rising to the top of the water after a dive, but the water was so warm, so soothing…

When Obi-Wan did open his eyes, he wondered – if it had been a dream, all a dream…

Not a dream. Not with that snoring.

His cheek was pressed into the plush of his tall master's throat, the entire length of his body warm against Qui-Gon's. He recognized his master's sleep chamber with difficulty – it had been a very long time since he'd been here.

And a very long time since he felt so… warm.

The pitter patter of rain on the window was soothing to him as well, for it had no rained when he was on Ghan.

"Padawan?" Qui-Gon mumbled, eyes opening a crack.

"Master," Obi-Wan responded reverently, eyes wide and exploring the form of the man he'd missed for so long… he paused and then whispered…

"Father…"

Qui-Gon swallowed thickly, going up on an elbow and looking deeply into his apprentice's eyes.

"What is it?"

Obi-Wan stared hard at him.

"I want to know why this happened."

0oooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Right so. Thanks to

Laura of Maychoria's

Ingenious recognition that URL's don't work, I tried to fix my ancient profile…. HA yeah right. So. If you'd like to see the concept art/illustrations to this fic, please check.. uh.. kenu dot deviantart dot com. YAY. Omg I love reviews on fanfic AND art. WOOT. And I swear to god im working on an Obi/Spire images and a Spire/Arkken image…

I tell you, this story's not done yet. More discoveries ahead :)


	15. chap 15

Chap 15

Qui-Gon felt the twinge of nervousness worm its way through his body, the uncomfortable feeling only intensifying underneath the boy's sea green eyes, so open, so raw, so unbearably confused and hurt. The elder master looked away, trying to gather his wayward thoughts, trying to come up with something substantial, something to justify why he had been acting the way he did.

He still couldn't come up with anything.

That was bad. The whole situation had been bad. And he hadn't even seen. Hadn't even recognized, had been blind. What kind of master was he if he had been blind to the most precious thing in his life?

"Master?"

Obi-Wan grasped his arm gently, the small fingers splayed against his biceps.

Qui-Gon let out a hoarse laugh, tears stinging his cobalt eyes. His large hand slid over his apprentice's, his callused pads gripping the boy's with intensity.

"I was blinded, my son."

The child swallowed hard, eyes burning with unshed tears. Such contradiction – to be forgotten, to be a son…

Qui-Gon shook his head, his mane of hair swishing from side to side.

"I took you for granted, padawan mine. I… I just assumed. I assumed you were alright, and that I could use my attentions else ware. I assumed that you needed time after your plight, after Tahl nearly died, and I assumed that her padawan needed some attention-

Obi-Wan's hard gaze froze the words on Qui-Gon's lips. The boy's sea green eyes had turned cold, brows drawn tight. The boy sat up, arms crossed and gripping his shoulders.

"…Obi-Wan?"

He turned, eyes icy.

"I learned something during my time away, master."

"And what did you learn, Obi-Wan?" the master asked softly, subdued.

"Never take anything for granted. Especially those close to you."

Obi-Wan turned away, rolling off his master's bed and standing, the pale morning light coloring his silken hair. He stood close to the window, gazing outside.

"How did you learn this lesson, padawan?"

"I learned by example."

Qui-Gon stood abruptly, throwing back the covers and moving with haste to his padawan's side. Large and worn fingers gripped the boy's shoulders, pivoting Obi-Wan.

"Always take me for granted, Obi-Wan," the man breathed, kneeling, "I will always be here for you… if I am not, then… kick me in the shins, get my attention, I beg of you. I will never," he swore vehemently, "leave you again."

Qui-Gon held his breath until that blessed, soft smile grazed the boy's features. Shaking his head, the master clung to his apprentice, holding tightly. Obi-Wan frowned, feeling his master tremble. Relaxing, the boy encircled the big Jedi's neck, soothing the man with gentle touches on the large back. But the boy remained in control, gazing coolly out into the sunrise as his master held them close.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next few days were rather hectic for Obi-Wan. Bant attacked him like some starving animal, clawing at him and crying her joy for his wellbeing. Garen and the other padawans gathered close at the lunch table, as Obi-Wan animated his story and gestured wildly at what he'd seen, who he'd met. The table whispered in awe at his stories of ships that flew faster than anything and the rouge Jedi who's golden saber killed a Sith.

A pack of younglings followed him practically everywhere he went (including the fresher…) and the temple was a buzz with gossip of his return. During saber practice a few days after his return, Obi-Wan was doing katas with his classmates when he sensed his master in the area. The bond, the fragile, nearly shattered padawan training bond was born anew, and it was always a surprise to Obi-Wan when he could feel the simple presence of his master in an area.

Qui-Gon was aware of the attention his padawan had been receiving, and choose to simply accept it. Several of the masters had given Qui-Gon the cold shoulder, but that was alleviating with time. But he did notice that his thoughts were constantly with Obi-Wan, no longer with Tahl.

It was Tahl, last night at dinner, who had told Obi-Wan about Kinah and Bruck's fate and Obi-Wan who placed a steady hand on her shoulder, giving his condolences.

Oh, what a child of light he had. Such strength, such compassion.

His padawan was cooling down, stretching and slowly spinning his blue saber before him. They made eye contact, and Obi-Wan jogged over to him.

"Master," he greeted, sweat rolling down his neck.

"Padawan," Jinn nodded, motioning for the boy to follow.

"The council has requested an audience with you, Obi-Wan," his master informed him, the two walking at a leisurely pace back to their residence.

"What for?"

"I'm not sure, but hurry up to the fresher and then head on up to the chambers. I will be along shortly, I am waiting on the arrival of some guests."

"Yes, master."

The padawan washed quickly, with a frown on his face. He wondered if he was in some kind of trouble, and hurried up the Jedi Temple's main tower to the ominous Jedi Council chamber. His robes swished dutifully behind him as he entered the large round chamber and bowed low to the Jedi who sat before him.

"Masters," Obi-Wan said smoothly, his accent rolling off his tongue. The council chambers were awash with orange light, the sunset nearly blinding the young boy as he stood before the circle.

"Padawan Kenobi, good to see you here again, it is," Yoda spoke, and nodded. "Know why you are here, do you?"

"No, masters."

Yoda's luminous eyes flickered sideways for a moment, his ears drooping a fraction.

"Child of light, you are, Obi-Wan. Always was," Yoda nodded, "Allow us to fix a grievous error, you may."

Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. Mace Windu cleared his throat, almost looking uncomfortable.

"I feel the need to shed some light on your situation, Obi-Wan, after you give us some information we need," Windu explained.

"What do you want to know, masters?"

The green master Jedi's voice grew weary.

"Worry endlessly about Padawan Karin Enspire, I do."

The lightbulb turned on, and Obi-Wan took a moment to realize that no, he had not been questioned about the affair yet. He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You would be proud of her, Master Yoda. She saved my life and serves a good cause."

"Where is Enspire?" Windu asked.

The boy straightened defensively.

"Far away from here."

A raspy chuckle emerged from Yoda's throat as he shook his head back and forth, wisps of graying hair following a second behind. Obi-Wan's brow furrowed, throat constricting.

"She's happy where she is, masters. And I thought she made it clear she wanted to remain away from the Jedi."

"Did you not sense, it padawan?"

Obi-Wan turned to find his master and a few other Jedi he did not recognize entering the council chambers, the door swishing closed behind them. Qui-Gon came to stand beside him, placing a large hand on the boy's shoulder.

Qui-Gon's gaze pierced each member of the council.

"You know as well as I do, that Enspire was born to be Jedi. We all knew it-"

"But our actions may have made this impossible, Master Jinn," Windu argued, tone somewhat more hesitant than normal. "Too long, she's been away, and she's been trained by a sith!"

"You saw her in there, masters," Qui-Gon pleaded, "She is no sith! She /killed/ a sith, she's not one of them-"

Obi-Wan stifled a wince as the hand on his shoulder gripped more tightly, fingers pushing into his flesh.

"Wish to help her, do you, or wish to clear your conscious, master Qui-Gon?"

The chamber fell silent and Obi-Wan struggled to understand. He craned his neck slightly, watching a dark emotion color his master's face. Frustrated, Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Please, someone explain to me what this is all about," the boy pleaded, his accent pronouncing his words clearly to the elder Jedi.

Windu looked even more uncomfortable, Qui-Gon's head was bowed in something bordering guilt, Yoda's ears were drooping, the other Jedi's gazes averted-

"Masters!" Obi-Wan said again, feeling more like a parent than a padawan learner.

A man, one the Jedi Qui-Gon had brought to the chamber, stepped forward tentatively, dark chocolate eyes scanning the gathered Jedi as if asking approval. The man was tall, perhaps six or so feet, and moved to stand before Obi-Wan and his master. The jedi fixed not-so well hidden glare at Qui-Gon. Then, the man knelt before Obi-Wan, and his eyes softened. The padawan felt a tremor in the force, and looked down upon the man, confused as to why a Jedi Master, he had to be a master at his age, was kneeling before an apprentice.

Those brown eyes bore into Obi-Wan, and an aged hand grasped his own, holding it tenderly.

"How is she?"

A raspy voice, low, a deep baritone, but colored in concern asked a question that none of the other masters had asked. Obi-Wan felt frozen, no words forthcoming. Qui-Gon's hand squeezed gently, and Obi-Wan sputtered to life again.

"She's… she's… not who she used to be, master…?"

The Jedi grinned sadly, looking down briefly, before enrapturing Obi-Wan in those soulful deep eyes again.

"Arkken. I am master Arkken Palamin."

Obi-Wans hand went frigid, as did his body.

"You- You're-"

The man nodded, face twitching beneath a short but scruffy grey beard. Tears pooled in the man's eyes.

"I am Karin's Master."


	16. chap 16

A/N's –

For real. I love my reviewers. Want to see something cool? Go back from the beginning, skim the chapters… and you'll understand stuff you didn't understand then :D Also – Arkken, I've deemed, definitely played by actor Jeremy Irons.

Since started adding the hits view for your private whatever, I am astonished to say that within 3 days, the hits for this story has tripled the amount of reviews its accumulated. WOW. That's… wow.

Anyway – onwards! Love, Spazzy.

Chap 16

Obi-Wan felt his throat close up.

"No," he shook his head, staring at the man before him in emotion. He looked backwards, to his master. "No, master… it… can't be-"

Master Palamin stood, turning to regard the council.

"Let me take him for a few moments to explain. I think it would be best if I were the one."

Mace nodded stiffly as he clasped his hands on his lap. Arkken turned, and motioned for Obi-Wan to lead the way. Obi-Wan began walking, numb. He didn't remember how he got there, but before too long they walked side by side in the gardens.

For a few moments, Obi-Wan regarded the supposedly dead master. The orange sunlight bathed the master in an otherworldly glow with the edge of night colored the rest of him in descending blue shades of darkness. He looked to be in his fifties, with short graying dark hair and beard. Surely, the master was aware of the scrutiny, but he said nothing and simply walked on.

Finally, beside a small pool and circle of craggy rocks, they stopped. Arkken sat heavily upon the stone, seemingly weary. Obi-Wan sat, cross-legged before him.

"Do you have… /any/ idea what agony Spire as gone through because she believes you dead?" Obi-Wan stammered, shaking is head as some unknown emotion clogged his voice, making it hard to speak.

The master said nothing, rubbing his hands together.

The boy was shaking, eyes tearing fiercely. "I tell you this, master, that your… death drove her to the dark side," he conveyed, watching the elder master's lips quiver, "And she loved you so /damn/ much, that she couldn't stay a sith because she felt that you wouldn't be /proud/ of her, that she couldn't tarnish /your/ memory-"

He paused, bringing his fingers to massage the bridge of his nose. He brought his face up again, eyes blazing.

"She feels pain everyday, because she feels she /failed/ you, let you die-"

"I know," Arkken said hoarsely. "I know. I've always known, and lived with it… lived with the knowledge that we did this, I did this."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the force swirling around them in a maelstrom of emotion and pain. Arkken took a deep breath, and began.

"Do you know the story of this?"

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself, the dying sun chilling the gardens. "She told me about the Ondari, how there were political issues, and that you and she were separated, and that she felt you die."

The elder Jedi's eyes closed and he swallowed hard.

"Yes. It was… the most difficult thing I have ever had to do."

Obi-Wan knew the answer before he asked it. "You cut the training bond."

Arkken shook his head, running his hands through the hair at his temples.

"I had no choice. It was… set up this way. We had a mission on Jaongar II that Karin was not aware of, a separate mission dictated to us by Master Windu and the Council-" he paused gathering his thoughts. When he began again, his voice was soft and steady. "The minority of the people on Jaongar II were telepaths, while the majority were normal humanoids. In reality, the oppression of the telepaths had led them to become... violent. They hated each other…"

"Is this why my master went along on the mission?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Indeed," Arkken nodded, "Qui-Gon is a very gifted negotiator. After a time, we were able to meet with a secret sect of leaders – those who wanted peace. But they knew that the telepaths did not trust the Jedi, would never listen to a Jedi, because they were threatened by us."

"So?"

"So… we had to fake my death."

"Right," Obi-Wan said skeptically.

"It's not that easy," Palamin breathed, the buzzing of nighttime garden animals and insects filling the silence. "It's never easy."

"Why did you cut the bond, Master Palamin?" Obi-Wan almost begged, his eyes wide and open with emotion. "Why do that to her? I thought you two were close-"

"We were closest in the order!" He defended testily, "The most gifted master and apprentice the force had blessed in years, Yoda said-"

"Then /why?" the boy pleaded-

"Because they had to believe I was dead! The council deemed it was the only way to successfully place me in the environment undercover," Arkken mused, eyes narrowing. "And the only way they would believe-"

"Was to sense the pain of it through Spire," Obi-Wan murmured, making the connection.

Arkken's eyes were red with unshed tears as his gaze bore into Obi-Wan.

"Her… shields weren't developed enough, she couldn't … couldn't hide that kind of pain…"

"And the council used that against her… my master used that against her," the padawan growled, anger touching his voice. "She said that Qui-Gon led her in circles, through a maze, while "trying" to get to you-"

"It – it wasn't meant to end like it did," Arkken almost whimpered, voice cracking, "She was supposed to go back to the temple, and they were supposed to tell her everything after she was off planet, away from the telepaths," the first tears escaped their confines and glistened in the starlight, "but she ran, she wasn't supposed to run-"

The master doubled over, shoulders shaking.

"She ran," his muffled voice retold, "She ran before the Jedi could get to her, and then she was just.. g-gone, and we tried to reach her, we did-"

"Shhh," Obi-Wan shushed quietly, stuffing his anger into a place where it could be dealt with later, and rising on his haunches and wrapping his small arms around the quivering master.

"Force," the master said shakily, raising his head and rubbing at his face, "I loved her so much, and to know that she suffered in vain, suffers in vain-" he shook his head, nose inches from Obi-Wan's, "It kills me. To know she will never be the Jedi she should have been, that this pain drove her to the dark, its –"

"Repairable," the boy whispered, placing a small hand on the master's shoulder. Arkken's bloodshot eyes regarded the boy with disbelief.

"This has been hell for both of you," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice low and soothing, wise beyond his years. "If you could see her again, just to see her, knowing she would never be a jedi, would you?"

"Yes," the master gasped, "To see her again, it's the only thing I dream of anymore," he shuddered hard, eyes closing to damn the flow of warm, salty tears – "All this time on Jaongar, in the field, its been… empty. Its all I live for, that hope t-that I can tell her how much I care, once more..."

Obi-Wan nodded, and looked over the elder's shoulder to see the tall silhouette of his master, the short shadow of a small master and the bald head of Windu in the darkness. A boy of only thirteen, Obi-Wan Kenobi gently grasped the back of Arkken's head, fingers sinking into soft hair, and brought the suffering master's head to his shoulder. His hand cupped the back of Arkken's skull and he murmured wordless comfort as the weight of Karin's master's head settled limply on his shoulder. His sea green eyes regarded his master's tall form as he spoke-

"Its going to be alright, shhh… Its alright…."

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Qui-Gon had an arm wrapped tightly around Arkken as they made their way out of the gardens. Obi-Wan strode purposely ahead towards Windu.

"Well, that was the most heartless plan I've heard of, Master Windu," Obi-Wan seethed in a rare show of anger, his smaller legs working harder to keep up with the taller man.

And Mace did not move to his defense like Obi-Wan suspected he would. Just a resigned sigh – "I know." Obi-Wan spun, blocking the dark-skinned master's path.

"Tell me something, in honesty, master – That you honestly want to reunite Spire with her master, that you don't want her just for her skills, or knowledge of the sith?"

Windu's eyes were tired.

"I just want to make up for a mistake, young Kenobi. It's the least we can do now," he revealed in a flat tone, and moved around the boy, walking into the temple. Obi-Wan stared after him, rubbing his thumb over his fingernails beneath his robes. A gust of wind blew his at his robes, and he looked down. The bright eyes of Master Yoda stared up at him.

"A great Jedi Knight you will become, Padawan Kenobi," he whispered, before grasping his gimmer stick and hobbling after Windu.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said softly, "I'm asked Master Arkken to dinner, do you mind?" asked the master as they paused beside the boy.

"Not at all. I will be along shortly, if I may, master," Obi-Wan replied with the calm voice of a dignitary, hiding the emotions he felt.

"Of course… padawan," the tall master responded, distracted. Obi-Wan watched the two head to the lifts. He, on the other hand, headed in the opposite direction. His robes swished silently on the smooth marble floors of the temple as he rapidly descended a flight of stairs into the large chambers of the Temple Library. He'd often come here in his childhood when he'd needed time alone. The Library was vast, and offered hundreds of isles of books and datapads. And as such, it offered plenty of space for the boy to find solitude.

Deep into the history section, Obi-Wan cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Determining he was alone, he reached into his robes, and retrieved the communications device that Rynik had given him. He fiddled with it for a moment, examining the device. He activated the recorder after he was sure it was safe.

"…Rynik?" Rynik its… its Obi-Wan," the boy said with a hushed tone, his eyes peeking out from behind the shelving to scan for intruders. "I have really important news and… I need you to send a ship…"

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Obi-Wan was doing dishes later than evening when he felt the communicator at his waist come to life, vibrating in a pattern of three jolts. He made sure to shield his thoughts and excitement from his master, and turned, looking over his shoulder. Arrken and Qui-Gon had shared a quiet meal with Obi-Wan, and afterwards, the two elder Jedi had turned on a holovid, talking quietly. He had watched out of the corner of his eye as Qui-Gon gently touched Arkken's brow, and the scruffy Jedi tilted, asleep. A warmth blossomed in Obi-Wan's stomach when he watched Qui-Gon gently lay the tired master down, placing a large hand on Arkken's forehead. Despite his faults, his master could be a creature of care when he tried.

His master then retired to his room, and Obi-Wan quickly dried his hands and hurried to stand outside the quarters. Seeing that he was alone in the quiet night corridor, he removed the communications device from his belt and struggled to turn it on. After a few attempted and buttons, Rynik's low voice burst into the air.

"Rynik!" Obi-Wan said gleefully, a grin splitting his face, but then the smile died when he realized he was listening to a recording.

"-Wan, this is Rynik, I hope you're receiving this is due time. Distance makes it impossible to communicate in real time, so we have to send messages –"

A pause,

"I got your message through to Lord Khas, and honestly I couldn't read his reaction, but oh man kiddo, this is big news. I'm going to see if I can arrange a ship, we'll see. Times… are tough right now for us, we don't have a lot of ships to spare. Its so frelling complicated –"

Static, another long pause,

"Even if we manage to get you and the master here, I don't know what Spire'll think of it, that is if we can bring her home to Ghan, she's…. off world, with the Knights trying to solve this conflict and… yeah. Uh, I, I gotta go, Obi-Wan – I'll send word soon!"

And then the message abruptly ended.

He just stood there a few minutes, breathing deeply. She was so far away, but he could feel her, the way her mind touched his, he could still feel it within. If only he knew what was going on, if only he could be there –

The young padawan wandered the temple hall while shrouded in darkness. He found himself on the top tier of one of the four encircling towers that surrounded the high council chambers. He gently slid the security door open, bracing himself against the blast of wind that battered him in the face. The sounds of speeders bounced off the Temple's walls, and he closed his eyes to it, to all of the external.

I'm closest to her, here, he thought, turning his face to the sky.

But I'm not close enough.

But soon.


	17. chap 17

A few notes:

a) For a long time I've been thinking about rewriting this story. Its got some issues, and its evolution has actually been something of an experiment in the psychology of readers and characters. It started off as a hurt comfort and evolved into something else. I would like to re-do it with the characterization of Qui-Gon more realistic, put more chapters with he and Obi-Wan in there, and some other things I would like to tweak. BUT I will finish this version first.

b) since I posted chapter 16, this story has received over 1600 views.

c) thanks for reading.

Chap 17

Qui-Gon Jinn was sitting idly picking at his dinner in the main eating hall. Arkken murmured something beside him, responding to something that Adi Gallia had said from across the table. Obi-Wan was in class now, and the elder master was trying to enjoy a quiet evening, but something was tickling the back of his senses, something seemed… off.

Adi then excused herself, leaving the two elder masters to their lonesome. Arkken turned to Qui-Gon, tapping his long fingers on the wood table.

"Are you feeling well, Qui-Gon?" He asked, cocking his head.

"I believe so… I was just pondering some wayward thoughts."

"Pray, tell," Arkken pleaded with a smile, standing and taking both of their trays. Qui-Gon stood and followed him to the recycling dispenser, and out into the commons area. The night time breeze soothed them, ruffling their hair. They walked side by side down the emptying halls, hands clasped behind them.

"I was so afraid, you see," Qui-Gon started speaking, "that after Xanatos…. Left, I was afraid that I would never trust another padawan again."

"But this is untrue, Qui-Gon. Look at the relationship you have with Obi-Wan now. He will be a fine Knight-"

"Indeed," he acquiesced, "But… I think its come full circle. I feel as if the roles have been switched – I took my padawan for granted, and now I feel much the learner in our relationship."

Arkken nodded, pausing to gaze out into the bright city night through the towering temple windows. "It is true; Obi-Wan in an exceptional young boy. But – he is a boy, Qui-Gon. He needs you more than you know."

"But what can I do for him?" Qui-Gon asked, eyes hooded as he sighed. "I don't want to make the same mistakes again that I made with Xanatos, I don't want to coddle the boy. But it seems out of my lack of… affection, as it were; he's grown up far too fast. He acts like a man, and he's but a boy."

"Qui-Gon," Arkken said softly, his deep voice a rumble, "Just be yourself around him. Remember, you are the mentor. That's what he wants you to be – yourself, and his teacher /and/-"

"And?" Qui-Gon asked quietly.

"And," Arkken replied, placed his hands on the taller man's shoulders, "he wants you to be his strength. His support. As it should be."

0oooooooooooooooooooooooo0

When Qui-Gon palmed the apartment door open that evening, he found Obi-Wan slouched over at the kitchen table, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, moving to stand behind the boy.

The boy grunted, shaking his head a little as if it clear it.

"Hi master, I'm just… working on these logic puzzles for class," he replied wearily, sucking in a breath when Qui-Gon's hands began to massage the tension in his neck and shoulders.

"And how are you fairing?" The master inquired, working the knots out of his apprentice's tense muscles.

"Uh," Obi-Wan murmured, eyes shutting in enjoyment of the touch, "Ok, I'm just, Nnn," he whispered, bowing his head to allow his master more muscle to soothe, "A little stressed out in my studies."

Keeping a palm on the boy's shoulder, the elder master slunk down into the chair adjacent to Obi-Wan. "Anything I can do to help?"

Obi-Wan regarded him for a moment, lax expression tightening into something more guarded. It had been a long time since Qui-Gon had acted like this. Concerned, compassionate. The elder man's deep blue eyes twinkled with something… something Obi-Wan had not seen in sometime.

Confidence, mirth even?

"Really, padawan, it wasn't that difficult a question."

The ginger haired boy sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I'm just a little stressed out, is all master. I'll be fine."

Qui-Gon nodded, jutting his lower lip as his head bobbed. Obi-Wan glowered at him, knowing his master didn't believe him. The elder man stood, walking causally to he living room couch. He settled deeply onto the cushion, turning on the Holovid player, and eye on Obi-Wan.

"Padawan, isn't this your favorite show?"

"You're telling me you /want/ me to watch that and not to my homework?" he asked incredulously.

Qui-Gon shrugged. "Maybe you could use a break."

Obi-Wan gaped at him, and then looked to the table, shaking his head.

After a few moments, the boy rose, and staggered over to his master, eyeing the position next to him on the couch. Qui-Gon yawned rather theatrically, lifting an arm and resting it on the back of the couch, The boy hesitated, a yawn of his own trying to escaped his locked jaw, and then sank beside his master.

The glow of the holovid cast bright colors over his face, and for a few moments the droning of the male voice filled the pleasant silence.

"A ship might come soon. I have to be ready for it."

Qui-Gon turned and looked down, surprised the boy had spoken.

"A ship?"

"I… asked a ship to come. To take Arkken to Spire. I don't know if its what she wants, but… I don't know. But it could come –"

"And you're staying awake, all this time, incase it comes?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, eyes closed.

The master pondered over this for a few seconds before suggesting,

"You could… shut your eyes for a moment. And if I hear anything I'll… let you know."

The young one pondered this for a moment, eyes staring dully at the holovid. And then, Obi-Wan slowly leaned back, back sinking against his master. The sensation of simply being safe was intoxicating. The slow, dull throb of Qui-Gon's heart against his back and the flicker and monotone of the holovid screen was soothing, and soon he felt himself be lulled... Qui-Gon pulled the boy close.

A buzzing sensation in his side roused the master from a doze he hadn't realized he'd fallen into. He blinked rapidly.

Obi-Wan jumped, sputtering while his hands flew to his waist. The boy fumbled with something on his belt, and Qui-Gon saw a glimpse of something shiny and black. The master started when a voice emerged loud and clear from the object.

"Master Kenobi. Do you read?"

"Y-yes, yes this is he-"

"Master Kenobi, this is Guild Master Arrien. On behalf of the Askieni Warcraft Temperance, we ask clearance to dock at your residence."

"Right away!"

Qui-Gon could only race after his suddenly very energetic padawan as they fled through the darkened halls. Whispers from woken padawans echoed in the great hall as there was a convergence of Jedi. Qui-Gon frowned, confused, until he looked outside the pier windows.

Oh.

It was very, very large.

Qui-Gon followed his padawan outside onto a loading dock and felt his eyes widen. His padawan didn't seem too impressed, only excited. A huge, gleaming ship three times the size of the Alastor was nearly blocking out the planet's sun. It was a dark metallic color that seemed to shift hues depending on how the light hit it. Smooth contours created its hull while the three wings were thin and sharp. It was a beautiful craft.

And Obi-Wan was waving it in. His padawan had made some interesting friends in his travels.

Yoda hobbled out into the cool night air, luminous eyes squinting up at the large ship.

A docking platform protruded from the hull of the craft, and 2 men exited onto the ramp. One was dressed similar to Rynik only in black tunics, held together at the left shoulder with gold lining and attachments. The emblem of a hawk as embroidered below the seam. The man's inky black hair was cropped and combed back, blue eyes serious. Accompanying him was another man, a blond with blazing green eyes. This man's outfit was more… medieval almost, with leather long shorts and tall boots with some kind of metal adorning his feet – a polished and battle worn leather top tunic that rested upon a simple white tank top. Leathers of reds, maroons, golds and most significantly – the tattoos he'd seen before adorning broad shoulders.

"You are of the Guild of Hawk," Obi-Wan said with respect, bowing, "And you, a Scehault Knight."

The first bowed stiffly in return to the boy, their difference in height almost amusing.

"I am Pilot Arrien, of the guild, yes. And this is Knight Siefu."

"Greetings… Jedi," the blond greeted gruffly, the word foreign to the off-worlder.

"And this," Obi-Wan motioned to his smaller master, "Is Jedi Master Yoda of the Council."

"To meet you, pleased I am. Know why you are here, I do not," the master said not unkindly. At this point, the group had gathered quite a crowd. Obi-Wan looked to his master, eyes bright.

"I believe, master Yoda, that these kind folk may have traveled all this way for a mutual friend of ours," Qui-Gon said with a slight smirk. Understanding dawned in Yoda's eyes and his ears perked up.

"Have room for an old Jedi master and his friends aboard your fine craft, do you?"

Arrien nodded, hands clasping behind his back.

"Master Qui-Gon, gather Master Palamin, you should."

"Yes, master," Qui-Gon said as he tried to cover a smile. The tall master gripped his padawan's shoulder fondly before striding through the mass of people into the temple.

Yoda nodded. "A vacation, I needed. Perfect timing, this is."


	18. Chapter 18

Chap 18

It smelled like dead bantha.

But then again, none of her comrades knew what a bantha was, therefore speaking her mind would be pointless. Nevertheless, it was not pleasant and the sooner they were in home dock, the better.

Spire leaned heavily on the cockpit wall, arms crossed and bulky with the body armor that was rank with sweat, grime, blood and force knew what else. Her brown hair was caked with dirt and the remains of war, and dipped before her vision.

"We've got confirmation from Bastieel, general," one of the Hawk Pilots said calmly. Spire grunted in acknowledgement, lifting her weight and stalking into the rear of the chamber. She paused before a tall man and regarded him silently.

"Problem?" the man asked, arms crossed and hands tracing over the tattoos on his shoulders.

"Just anxious."

"Indeed. I could do with a clean set of clothing and a decent meal myself," the man answered. Spire agreed, touching his arm before moving deeper into the craft. She felt the inertia of the ship's rapid decent to Ghan and held fast to the side of the corridor.

"Askieni Warcraft Defiance, you are cleared for landing in port 4, you are cleared for landing in port 4," a woman's voice chirped brightly over the intercom. Spire looked up to the ceiling, as if thanking the woman personally for taking them home.

And yet, she was anxious. There was… a disturbance in the force, it seemed to her. Then again, she was no prophet and usually only used the force for interactions that were at hand but… something seemed different.

Nothing a shower and night of real sleep won't fix, she said to herself. Three weeks, it had only been three weeks since she and the Knights had left Ghan. Three weeks of no sleep, three weeks of live moment to moment, taking a breath and wondering if it would be your last…

Not that she regretted the work. She and her fellows had freed that poor world in only three weeks. And now, the people were free to live by their own decisions.

It was worth the lives lost to free a planet.

The Defiance touched down, jolting the ship and Spire from her thoughts. The young woman was standing at the exit door when it opened, and she was blasted by hot steam as she strode down the walkway. She was met by two other knights, and together they strode with and air of confidence up to the upper levels of the civil liberties building and then to the main chambers of the Scion.

The chamber doors swung open dramatically and light filtered in from behind them. Spire marched with eyes forward towards the center throne and knelt, grime, sweat and all, before Khas.

"My lord," she rasped, voice low from the weeks of smoky battles and loud gunfire.

The lord reached for her, resting his aged hand upon her ear and skull.

"We have received word from the remaining ships. All tell of your success."

She paused, frowning. She stood, hands clasping behind her and her eyes narrowed, looking to Khas's left. Something… felt different, something… was in her field. Something within the force. Spire frowned at her leader.

Bareli just smiled, looking positively innocent. A murmur went up through the counselors in the chamber and Spire felt uneasy.

"Yes well," she swallowed, glancing to her left as the blond haired Siefu joined her before Khas, "I beg your leave sire – its been… a long time since my men and women and I have seen clean clothing or real food. I beg your leave."

The elder man stood, putting his hands before him and taking a few steps towards Spire. "Indeed. And later, after your rest, I require you in the main courtyards for dinner and ceremony, Spire. Again; well done."

The knights nodded and bowed. Spire paused – she saw, and felt something familiar in the room, to her left, something that teased the edges of her senses… But she said nothing and because to exit. The other nights paused, then turned and followed her out of the chambers.

They strode into the tall corridor, with the heavy clanking of their boots ringing the hallway.

"Something's amiss, Siefu," Spire confided, shaking her head as they walked. "I sense something… but it remains elusive." She sighed, clambering into the shuttle with the men. "But regardless – we missed you and the Temperance during the last segment of the conflict. You and Arrien make a strong team when in battle."

"I regret being called away – we could have ended that battle far sooner alongside you, Spire," Siefu said briskly, and stopping the elevator on the floor he desired. He moved to exit and turned, bowing swiftly. "I shall see you tonight, sister."

"Yes, fair leave until then, Siefu," Spire returned, nodding. She narrowed her eyes again, crossing her arms and sighing.

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Obi-Wan gripped the railing of balcony hard, his small hands straining to encircle the smooth copper. The suns were setting over Ghan, and the blinding glare was almost enough to drive the boy away from the sight.

Almost.

"Something troubles you, padawan."

The boy turned his head, making out the tall form of his master sinking nimbly onto the patio couch behind him. He looked again into the alien sunset.

"It's nothing, master," Obi-Wan said.

"Come, my padawan. Do I not know you well enough that I can tell when something's wrong?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I don't know, do you?"

His master's lion like features stiffened.

"What do you say that, Obi-Wan?"

"I just… keep thinking about it, master!" he rasped, "I ask myself, how did I let this happen? Why did you choose Kinah over me?" Obi-Wan said in a whisper, shaking his head.

Qui-Gon stood, his robes swishing as he moved to stand beside his padawan, facing the courtyard below.

"The fault of this… whole incident, this past few months, is not your fault, Obi-Wan. It was mine. I had failed you-"

"Yes, yes I know, we've been over this, master," Obi-Wan said in a rush, "And it should be done and we should be able to move on, but why, why do I keep remembering her face, when she was walking to the ship that was going to end her life as a Jedi, why do I feel so badly for her-"

"When she caused you such pain?" Qui-Gon finished.

Obi-Wan ground his jaw together, again grasping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. A much larger hand settled over his, and he paused, still looking down.

"Because of your compassion, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently, coming to stand behind the boy.

"What if it was something worse, master," Obi-Wan breathed, hesitating, and finally allowing himself to lean back against the solid wall of strength that was his teacher.

"What if I feel such compassion for someone who was a murderer? A killer? She was cruel to me, why don't I hate her?" he asked.

Qui-Gon leaned down, his face near his padawan's ear.

"Because – you are Jedi. She… is not."

"Then why did you teach her? Why help her?" Obi-Wan said.

"Not all who entered the temple doors will become good Jedi. They are accepted by the fact that they have force skill. But it must be honed. People like her, impatient, needy of attention, some of them can be tutored to become decent Jedi."

"And me. You didn't give me that attention."

Qui-Gon smiled softly, though the boy couldn't see it as the elder drew the boy close with his long arms.

"You never needed it. You are very special, my Obi-Wan. You are already a true Jedi."

The boy felt a small smile tug at his lips.

"But you'll make me an ever better Jedi, master?"

"The best," the elder whispered.

Qui-Gon looked up from Obi-Wan's soft hair, hearing commotion in the courtyard below. A group of young boys and girls had formed several ranks, and were taking kata stances with what looked like wooden staffs. At the head of them, was his padawan's friend, and his own worst failure, aside from Xanatos.

"Can we make it right now, master?" Obi-Wan asked Qui-Gon with a childlike innocence that had the amazing effect of forming a lump in his throat.

"Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon Jinn rasped, "Lets go make it right."

The two exited the balcony, a new sense of peace between them. They strode into the ornately decorated hallway, and paused outside of the other guest room. Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled when his padawan knocked with restrained energy on the door.

A few moments later, the Jedi made their way down to the bottom floor of the complex. The dying sunlight blinded them in the doorway, and Arkken paused at the frame, looking down.

A dozen meters away, a much cleaner Karin Enspire was basking in the waning light. She stood with a sense of command, her arms crossed and shoulders back, watching the youth go through a set of Katas. She observed them with a furrowed brow, and stepped forward. Her footfalls seamed heavy and her leather and metal boots crunched the grass beneath her.

"Who can tell me the difference between a high guard and a low guard when in the sixth stance?" She called, voice bouncing off the stone walls of the courtyard. Her long leather knee-shorts brushed by a young blond girl, and they faced each other. Spire raised a brow expectantly.

"It's easier to keep your balance going into the next form when you have a high guard, Sir," the blond said in a surprisingly clear voice.

"Well done," Spire acknowledged, moving down the line of youth. The back of her sleeveless shirt made a glowing T in the growing darkness, and Obi-Wan followed her with his eyes as she intermixed with the others. Arkken took a hesitant step forward, but was halted by a green clawed hand.

"Best it is, if I go first," Yoda murmured quietly.

Karin was doing some light offensive movement with one of the younger girls when a tremor wormed its way up her back. She paused, senses alert. Glancing up, she only saw the maintenance men lighting the torches, the new firelight casting shadows on the walls and trees.

Swallowing thickly, she withdrew from the young protégé' and moved to the front of the ranks. Resting the training staff on her shoulder, she halted at the front.

Bareli, Ardemis and Galliya were standing in the second floor gala balcony, looking down at her. She knew then, that something wasn't right.

There was a huge, huge tremor in the force. She inhaled sharply, jamming her eyes shut as the surrounding force signatures blurred and shifted. Her eyes opened and she saw, through the force, this blinding, swirling light to her left.

Yoda. Oh Force, it was /Yoda/.

Yoda and a gaggle of Jedi.

She felt her head start to pound.

The sting of betrayal bit deep, and with exhausted, bloodshot eyes she bore her head upwards to glare at the three Ghan leaders above.

"I don't believe she's pleased with us, sire," Ardemis grumbled.

"Just watch," the Scion hushed.

Swallowing thickly again and trying in vain not to clench her jaw in irritation, Spire took a deep breath and turned towards the approaching little green Jedi.

"Greetings from Ghan, Master Yoda," Spire said evenly with a small bow.

His gimmer stick swished in the soft grass as he approached her, and every step forward he came, the more Spire wanted to howl in frustration. This was her place! Her place to forget the past, forget the Jedi. How unfair that they find her here, at home, in private. She was going to have a damn long talk with Khas-

"Padawan Enspire, happy I am, to see you well," Yoda greeted, having finally reached her.

"And I am pleased to see you in good health also, Master Jedi," she said. If she didn't have an audience of young pupils and Ghan high ranking officials, she really would give the little creature a piece of her mind. In fact-

"Come many miles to see you, we have."

"We?" inquired Spire.

Obi-Wan broke free from behind his master and the wall of taller Jedi and jogged towards her. Upon recognition of the boy, Spire's face softened somewhat from its harsh lines of diplomacy.

"Spire," he whispered, a happy grin on his smooth boyish face. Without a second hesitation, Obi-Wan grasped her tightly, not waiting for an invitation. Spire blanched, embarrassed in front of the students, but returned the gesture, if with less fervor.

"Hello, Obi-Wan. I suppose I have you to thank for this surprise visit?" The words were harsh, but as they separated, he could tell she didn't hold it against him. Her eyes were tired from war, he noted, but it didn't matter. She looked at him quizzically, at his animated smile that remained plastered on his face.

"Came, we did, many sectors. Brought you something, we have," Yoda announced.

"And what did you bring me, Master Yoda?" Spire asked with a degree of cool to her voice. "Another chance at being Jedi?"

"No," Yoda shook his head. "I brought answers."

Spire took a step back, pulling her weight upwards and crossing her arms in a defensive gesture.

"Answers to what Questions, Master?"

"Why this happened. Why I didn't help you get to your master in time," Qui-Gon spoke from the sidelines.

"Why we were so desperate to find you on Nar Shadaa," Master Plo Koon said.

Spire almost scowled at them, grinding her teeth. She looked up to Bareli.

"I appreciate the effort, my friends. But it is in the past. There is nothing we can do to change, or heal the past," Spire all but hissed, emotion filling her grey core. Yoda's ears perked. The swirling force signature that was Karin Enspire dipped dangerously darker in spectrum.

"Karin…"

Spire stopped breathing.

Obi-Wan touched her arm briefly, before moving to stand beside Yoda.

Turning slowly, Spire faced the line of Jedi at the south hall entrance. And from them, emerged a dead man. Or, a man she believed for so, so long, to be dead. For a second, she thought she might faint, but that would not bode well for her ego. Then again, her ego didn't really matter right now. The man walking towards her… that was all that mattered.

Arrken Palamin was a little worse for wear than the last time she'd seen him. His face was lined with age, his hair a little greyer. Palamin had never been a terribly large or muscled man. He was rather lean and thin, really, compared to his fellow Jedi. But now his robes seemed to encompass him fully.

He walked until he was only a few meters away from her when he stopped. For a few beats, they just stared in disbelief.

"Padawan," Arkken breathed, reaching a hand to her, but still several meters away.

The blank look on Spire's face warped suddenly, to great, great pain. Anger, loss… and something else. Her eyes blazed betrayal. She turned to Yoda with a piercing gaze.

"Explain… explain /this," she hissed. Obi-Wan flinched, suddenly wishing his master was beside him.

"Jaongnar II was set up for you to believe your master died," Qui-Gon said softly, his deep voice carrying across the courtyard.

Spire let out a noise that sounded like a wheeze, blinking rapidly. Qui-Gon shook his head helplessly.

"They… wanted me to be undercover for a while… I… after you returned to the temple, you were to be informed," Arkken said softly, his deep brown eyes regarding his old padawan with deem emotion. "I was filled with such horror at having to cut the training bond, but then to loose you all over again…"

"You cut the bond."

"I had too."

A choke of a laugh erupted from her lips followed by a grimace of pain. She took a deep breath, straightening. She looked up, to the agonized faces of Bareli, Ardemis, Galliya. Looked down to Yoda and Obi-Wan, who was near tears. Looked to the other Jedi. And finally, looked at her master.

"I loved you, Master Palamin," she whispered as dusk turned to darkness. The firelight cast shadows over her face, blurring her expression.

"I loved you… have loved you… have grieved you…" Arkken said.

"Yea… same here," Spire said softly. She came closer, her physical presence hostile. "I mourned you. Felt unworthy since I /thought/ I let you die, and yet…" she trailed off, looking inward, "I could not truly fall to the darkside. He offered me a good deal, Darth Fenris, he did."

"Offer you, what did he?" Yoda asked.

"He said he could make me forget," Karin murmured, shaking her head and closing her eyes. Arkken felt a new wave of remorse flow through him. And… he could not stand back anymore. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He brought his hands to her arms and she flinched eyes flying to his face. Her body was tense with pent up emotion. Her eyes flitted to Obi-Wan's for a moment, and he caught her gaze.

"Its in the past… you said," Obi-Wan said quietly in the firelight, "What of the future?"

And then it was just… her. Arkken squeezed her arms gently. Her eyes, her hair, longer now, than when she was his padawan.

"You've grown up," he said.

"Yes, I did," she answered evenly.

"I wish I could have been there."

"As do I… but you weren't."

"No… I wasn't," he breathed.

"What do you want from me, Arkken?" She asked, eyes burning with raw pain. "Do you want me to go back? Make things right? Be your padawan again?" She ripped herself out of his grip, stepping backwards.

"I have been a sith, Jedi. I have served under Sideous himself. I left them, forsaken, and now I serve him," she pointed above, "Because he's a decent man. This world and their ideals is a decent lot."

"And the force, what of it?" Yoda asked. "The darkside, I sense in you, young Enspire."

"I AM the darkside," she growled, voice harsh, "The dark flows through me, through the Shehault Knights." The other Jedi inhaled sharply at this. She paused and then continued.

"I am the darkness. And I am the light. The force sensitive of this world are balanced in a way that the Jedi have yet to achieve. There is nothing to fear in the dark, when you also have the light," Spire said. The jedi murmured in response, looking at each other in confusion. She shook her head. "You will understand in time."

"Gain such knowledge of the force, you have, you think. Where from did you learn this balance?" Yoda inquired, grasping his stick and leaning upon it heavily.

Spire smiled softly.

"When those you believe lost to you learn how to remain, their knowledge will be passed down and balance can begin."

Obi-Wan frowned, fiddling with his robes.

"Do you mean… you said once that the Lions were the great knights of the past… you weren't being…" his accent rolled in surprise, "literal, were you?"

"Lions?" Yoda asked in confusion.

"It doesn't matter," Spire waved her hand in dismissal. "What does matter is this: What happened is in the past. Though it still wounds me greatly. But that is not why I refuse to return with you. I am no longer a Jedi, masters. What I have learned, the way I serve, the way I teach – the attachments I make, they are all not what the Jedi are," she explained with growing weariness. She regarded Arkken. "I loved you so much, that it destroyed me, master. It might have been alright had you been there to weed it out of me but… you weren't. And now, I cannot… will not go back."

She turned her back then, regarding the students in block that she'd forgotten. They watched her with wide, curious eyes.

"I left you once. I won't do it again," Arkken's deep baritone wafted across the grass.

Spire froze.

Obi-Wan felt his heart, which was slowly growing more and more heavy, lighten as he watched the tall master walk toward his old student.

"This whole… five years has been a nightmare. I've suffered it. So have you. And now…" he stopped close to her back, "We are here. I've… I've found you. At last."

She felt the presence of him, her master's mind, against hers for the first time in – so long, so very long-

"Karin," he whispered, so close he could feel her body heat against his chest, "I won't leave you again."

"You… would leave the Jedi Order?" Karin whispered, turning her head ever so slightly.

Arkken turned his own head to look at Yoda. A small smile graced his lips.

"For you… Only for you."

Obi-Wan felt warmth pool in his stomach as she turned around and Arkken simply smiled at her. She swallowed hard eyes closing tightly in emotion. Arkken closed the gap and grasped her to him, so hard it looked as if she were smothered. Yoda grunted next to him, shaking his head.

"Happy ending at last, this is," Yoda said so softly it was meant for only his ears. A clawed finger poked his robes. "Done well, you have. At last, healing can begin."

"Students," Bareli called from above, his face pleasant and calm, "I believe you are dismissed to dinner now."

The hoard of pupils leaked to the exits of the garden as Ardemis crossed his arms, hugging himself tightly in the night air. He watched with a pang of jealousy as Karin buried her face against her master's chest, and the man wrapped his arms around her secure.

"What are we going to do with /another/ Jedi?" Ardemis grumbled as Galliya lead him by the elbow back into the building.

Obi-Wan made his way to his own master, and promptly flung himself into Qui-Gons arms.

"Whats this?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I'm just feeling a little… clingy right now, master," Obi-Wan withdrew with a grin.

"Oh really? I do hope this won't last," Qui-Gon smirked with merriment, "I don't think the locals can take much more emotional outbursting from the outworlders," he said, pointing to the people looking at them with curiosity. But Qui-Gon placed an arm around his padawan's shoulders and followed the crowd indoors, leaving the two lost souls in the courtyard.

The two had sunk to the grass, entwined.

"Karin," he asked softly. He head rested heavily in the nook of his shoulder and neck and he couldn't see her face.

"Master," she responded and hesitated, saying it again as is if it were taboo.

"…master…I never thought I would see you again…"

"I'm so sorry… so sorry. I should never have agreed to the council's plan… so sorry," he murmured, rocking gently. But no answer was forthcoming, only steady breathing and a desperation that transcended sleep as her hands clutched his waist.


End file.
